Parker, Peter Parker
by i wanted a unique name
Summary: oh, I am peter parker? OK, Cool .That's cool I can deal with this. I will be posting this on RoyalRoad.
1. Chapter 1

A NOTE FROM IWANTEDAUNIQUENAME

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Spiderman.

Note: First story. Tell me what you all think in the reviews.

Extra note: I reposted this chapter to correct some grammatical errors.

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** .BEEP**

Peter turned around and groaned into his pillow.

'Ugh. Uncle Ben bought this one on purpose.'

He brought his hand down on the clock.

_Click._

_THUD._

Sighing to himself he sat up and stretched his arms.

_ .CRACK._

_'Oh yeah that hit the spot.' _

Reaching down he picked up his alarm clock.

The back hatch was open and there was a tiny dent near the back. It seems that the batteries just fell out.

Putting them back in, he flicked the switch and waited for the hands to move. They didn't.

'_Ah, the batteries are in the opposite terminals. Clumsy me_.'

Fixing his clock, Peter put it back and made to get off his bed.

That's when he noticed it. A strange sensation throughout his body. A feeling of strength, of power and grace.

His fingers felt lighter and more nimble. Even now hunched over his bed he felt fluid and well coordinated and didn't feel any strain on his back. His body was unusually responsive today. In fact he was brimming with energy.

Everything felt a lot easier.

Getting off his bed, he untangled his sheets and folded them. He noticed that his perception had changed. Did he grow taller overnight?

He walked towards the mirror to see what was happening to him.

_'oh, I have muscles.'_

It seems he had become Flash Thompson all of a sudden. Glancing away he began to look for his clothes.

Then it him

_'Wait, I HAVE MUSCLES?'_

His chest was wider and his shoulders were no longer rounded. The rest of his body was showing some degree of muscle definition. A slight growth spurt seems to have come over him._'Oh puberty, have you finally bestowed thy gracious blessings upon this poor peasant?' _Not that he was complaining or anything. He was tired of looking like a in front if the mirror, he observed his body while flexing in ridiculous poses.

That must be why he felt so sick yesterday. He was finally growing up.

Looking around his bed he found a glass of water on the table.

_'Aunt May must have brought it. She is too worried lately. Who can blame her though?'_

After soothing his throat, he put the cup back on the table and went to look for his clothes.

He picked up the towel, stripped off his pajamas and went to the bathroom.

_'Since when do I wear pajamas to bed? I must have been really sick yesterday.'_

Looking at himself in the mirror Peter tried to find any changes to his face. Maybe a bit of jawline? A classic beard? He might be asking for a lot, but what's wrong with a little bit of narcissism?

His face was a bit thinner than before, but nothing significant had changed.

He would have loved to see uncle Ben right now. The old man would have joked about his non existent love life and then give him a backhanded compliment to lift his spirits. Now Peter has to make up for his absence. Aunt May was optimistic about paying the mortgage but he wasn't so sure about that.

_'The pension will stop coming by any week now and unless I get a job, aunt may would be hard pressed to pay it off. Funny I never had to think about this kind of stuff before.'_

Wetting his brush Peter began his morning routine. The tap let out a stream of water that his brush lapped up eagerly. Well it's not really a routine or anything but when you have done something thousands of times, your body tends to automatically do it while your mind goes wandering. A good example would be him wondering whether or not he will get a girlfriend. He wasn't about to get his hopes up, but maybe he had a chance this year.

That's when it hit him. In one single moment, his entire being changed. It was to be expected in a way. Circumstances like these are as rare as they come. But having nineteen years worth of memories cramped into your head is quite the experience. It wasn't painful or anything. If anything he felt more wise. It sure as hell felt weird though.

Peter's memories were being assimilated into his, or were his memories being assimilated into Peter's? Who is he? Is he real?

Looking up he saw himself on the foggy mirror. It was strange, yet familiar, somehow. He didn't know what to feel then, it's a lot to take in you know? The man stared long and hard at his new reflection.

_'Not bad. A seven out of ten. Maybe an eight if I lost that baby fat. Is this how the world will see me? I wonder what my mom would think. Hmm, why did I come here? Moreover why this specific point in time? I was probably supposed to sleep through everything, so that when I woke up, it would be as me but with Peter's memories. Waking up a bit early somehow fumbled the process.'_

That's when another thing hit him. You know, the whole I can't go back realisation. But it hurt a lot more than he thought it would. He had never stayed away from his parents for more than a month and sudden changes like these give you epiphanies that make you appreciate what you took for granted. No matter what you may think, knowing that you will probably never see your family again is a hard blow to accept, or at least it was for him. But then this other part of him had memories of Uncle Ben and aunt may and. It confused the heck out of him. It was frustrating to say the least.

Tears began to drop. He rubbed the snot off his nose and looked back at the mirror. It will be strange to get used to this. He can't do anything else now, can he?

He could try to get the infinity gauntlet but that is a gamble at best. He will have to be extremely patient or extremely ruthless if he wants to go down that path. And he was neither of those. Nevermind the compromised morals. That was something that he was not willing to do.

_Great, just great. I can't deal with this. I'll break down after I have my bath._

He wiped his eyes and got in the shower. The cold water was a welcome shock.

_' Well, at least Peter has a respectable junk size.'_

May was making pancakes in the kitchen oblivious to his existential crisis. A woman in her early fifties, Aunt May was the most sincere person he had ever met. He was willing to bet that it was all a front. Who knows what kind of past is hidden behind her passive demeanor? Hmm wonder if she will notice anything different about me. He was a bit taller than yesterday, but the clothes should cover his muscles for now.

"Morning Peter, how are you feeling?'

He had to get used to being called Peter. God it was weird.

"Feeling alright aunt may, don't know what happened yesterday, I usually don't get sick like that." Yeah that was a normal peter answer. This woman was like a mother figure to Peter. Don't let her get suspicious. He can pass of the muscles because of exercise or something in a month or so.

May was tired it , the dark circles around her eyes spoke for her. She was probably checking on me during the night. Poor May. She just can't seem to catch a break.

"Well, I am glad to hear that Peter, Oh did you forget your glasses upstairs?" She asked when she caught a glance of me.

_'I knew I forgot something. Damn it.' _ His eyesight is more than perfect now. Wearing them would only impair his vision. But he was not going to lie to her. Let her believe it's a miracle of the lord or something. Couldn't she notice something else?

"I can see without them now. No idea why though."

May turned around and looked at Peter closely. That was unusal. He couldn't even walk without his glasses. Well, his parents never wore them, maybe he doesn't either. Maybe he's just bluffing. She held up her fingers.

_'Not this again.'_

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Five."

"now its three.

"two, one, four."

"So you can see."

"Yup."

"I must say Peter You look even more dashing without your glasses." It was true. Unlike most people, Peter's face didn't seem to grow along with his glasses.

"Why thank you." Peter replied with a smirk.

He would recommend the Spiderman package to anyone with bad eyesight but if she wants to believe its because of his glasses or something, then its fine with him.

Aunt may quietly sat down after putting breakfast on the table.

_'Might as well stuff myself; Peter never cared much about his health. Something I'll have to change.'_

"You have quite the appetite today."

"The fever left me hungry, I suppose."

Peter's body was undergoing rapid changes so it was to be expected that he would be hungry. Currently it was screaming for healthy foods.

The spider bite should have left him absolutely shredded. But it didn't. Don't get him wrong, he still had the muscles but they were barely there. He was still lean despite growing bigger. You can't make something from nothing. He had to exert himself and get some blood pumping to really make the muscles show. Peter looked as if he went on a diet and started exercising. Not as if he was a Greek god incarnate. One more thing he had to change.

Yesterday was the day Spiderman was born. Yay. The school trip to Oscorp was really interesting. Peter's dad used to work there, didn't he?Funny thing though, he never noticed when the spider bit him. But he could barely walk straight when he came home.

In a way it's a good thing the spider bite event already happened. He probably would have used spider attracting cream or something crazy to make sure it bit him. Things always work out better when everything remains the same.

Breakfast was a slow affair like always. He was still getting used to his body, so he wasn't feeling any awkwardness sitting there silently. He wanted to ask May about their finances but, she had always concealed such information from Peter.

He didn't often ask about these things and he didn't want to bring it up out of the blue. Swallowing his food, peter spoke up.

"Do you know anywhere I can get a summer job, aunt may?"

"I'll ask around the neighborhood dear, maybe someone will know of any vacancies. How was your field trip though?"

Now _that _was a difficult question. Despite their reputation, they were doing some interesting research, He'll give them that, moreover they gave him spider powers so kudos to them. Oscorp seems like an alright place, maybe he should try to get an internship there. But paid internships are rarer than vibranium and they had a horrible employee turnover rate though. Look at Dr. Otto for example.

He'll probably have to find a part time job.'

"It was nice, but I wouldn't want to work there anytime soon."

The family finished their breakfast and went to wash the dishes. Whatever Peter was, inconsiderate he was not.

"I'll say Peter; you are almost as tall as Uncle Ben now". Aunt may said while looking up at me._ 'Huh I guess that's true. I gained a few inches last night. Finally noticed it. Didn't you?_'

"I am a growing young man aunt may, what can I say?"

There was still half an hour left for the bus to come, he should have some free time. After helping aunt May with the dishes, he went upstairs to think a little.

Taking out an unused book he started writing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Hey everyone. Sorry for the delay.**

**I re-posted this chapter. Anyway guys. Lets get on with it.**

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Twirling the pen in his hand, Peter stared at his notebook

'Now that I think about it, there is a lot to write down.'

Everything from his financial assets to social contacts, which was none because Peter had no friends, needed to be written down. He wanted to get an idea of what he has in the current moment. After a few minutes of furious pencil scratching, he was done.

'Let's see. Eighteen years worth of life experience by yours truly, financial management skills, Multilingual and Knowledge about future events. Side note: be prepared for the economic crash of 2008 and the leap in Smartphone technologies. Side note 2. Invest the hell out of social media. What else? What else? Oh American citizenship, how could I forget that? The gun laws here are looser than my jeans. Maybe I should visit Texas sometime.'

'Hmm, is there anything I missed? Oh yeah. I am a teenager. We're known for doing stupid shit. If I am smart about it, I could get away with a lot of shady stuff. Just an average suburban highschooler here. Move on please'

'My powers should be put on another list. Maybe with health and fitness. I'll put it among the top priorities for world is a lot more dangerous than it seems on the surface.'

'If I am careful enough, I'll be able to hold my own against most threats. I just need to make sure that I don't mess with things out of my league. In these situations its best to wait and watch. And if the going gets tough, well I'll deal with it somehow, these muscles ain't just for show, I hope.'

Looking at his notes, Peter saw the empty liabilities column.

'Oh boy, here's something I am not looking forwards to.

'Now then, My disadvantages would include the house's mortgage, the government spy agency probably being hacked, worry of constant monitoring and a dangerous world where anything can be ruined because of superpowers. Getting a job to help pay the mortgage will be my first concern. As for the others, I'll have to be super careful to not give any blood tests. I wouldn't want a she hulk situation. Maybe I should add global warming, this list doesn't seem to stop anytime soon. Eh, might be better if I minimize my online presence or at least hide it. VPN is still a thing right?. Heh. Don't want any relatives on my facebook page now do I? The last time that happened...Oh wait. I don't have any. '

I stopped writing for a few seconds. Holding the pen up to my face, my fingers applied just the tiniest amount of force. It snapped.

'It's funny when I think about it now. I was a bit of a nihilist in my teenage years. Nothing went my way and I never understood why. I struggled to find some sort of meaning so as to why I was here. Not getting any answers, I gave in to my vices, enjoying life in the moment. Eventually I got tired of it. I couldn't accept what my life had become and I was determined to change it. Everything was beginning to look up. And now it's all fucked. I would never make my dad proud; I would never see my mom or my sister. I would never have what I wanted. Fuck this.

I flipped the notebook off the table.

Tears filled my eyes. 'Fucking hell, why do I need to deal with this shit? I am taken from my home and expected to dance to someone else's tune? No. Why should I? This is not my responsibility, I don't need to follow the rules, what does anyone think I can even do in this situation? Collect the infinity stones and become the ruler of this universe? I am just a kid. I can barely lie to a teacher. I should runaway, aunt May would be able to make it on her own, she's not my family, I don't need to be Peter and take care of New York. That way led to a life of misery and pain. Why should I even consider it? I am done here. If God put me here, then I don't care what he thinks anymore, it's obvious he doesn't care anyway. And if it's not God, then whatever hell spawn brought me here could suck their own-'

"Peter, you're going to miss the bus." Aunt May called from downstairs, interrupting my inner rant, He could leave right now. She wouldn't know anything. He could take some clothes and money and bolt it. He can survive the streets of new york. No one would screw with me. Peter had to hold back when he got into a fight. He'll just make sure that I don't.

Then a astray thought hit and made me stop in my tracks.

'But what if something happened to aunt May? If she does something reckless because of my decision, then I won't be able to sleep at night. Fuck, I can't leave her like this.'

"I am coming". I shouted downstairs. 'I might as well..'

I quickly put all the books in the bag. I didn't bother looking at the timetable. The textbooks barely weighed anything to me. Walking down I saw aunt May waiting by the door. A wave of instant regret hit me.I must have been crazy to think I could leave her alone. Peter used to hug her before leaving. I hesitantly did so as well; Not gonna lie, it felt awkward as all hell.

When was the last time I hugged my mother like this? Thinking of her, I leaned into the hug. I lost one mother already. Maybe I shouldn't be so eager to lose another.

The bus usually stops a little away from the street. It was a long way away. Anyways I can confirm that the optical upgrades are working. Man, I missed not using specs. It was oddly beautiful to look at the world through my own eyes. I was drinking in the sights before me as I walked. It was beautiful. All the vlogs in the world couldn't capture the feel of the quality, man it was insane.

Bringing my hands up, I looked at them with my 1440p vision.

Every twitch of my muscles were visible to me. The tendons in my arms shifted and I could see the veins stretching over them as I looked at them. If I concentrated I could feel something beneath my skin accumulating and refining itself. A hidden source of energy fueling my still developing physique. Looking at the city skyline, I counted every single apartment in my vision. The clouds looked closer than ever before. I took a deep breath and started walking towards the bus stop. I could even feel the air wafting around me. It was surreal to say the least. The simplest of things would make me stop and stare. Keep it cool Parker, keep it cool. Even more weird things are going to happen. Ooh, do I have sticky hands? Wasn't that how Peter climbed walls? I brought my right hand up. I couldn't see any hairs on it. Thank god. How did he do it in the comics again? Messing with inter molecular bonds or something, right? Or was it just static electricity? Hmm. Think on it later, I am gonna be late if I walk this slowly. Better hit it if I want to make it to the bus.

Strapping my bag tightly, I started jogging. It was something I used to do in my old life. But I didn't have much stamina back then. As my feet hit the ground I felt that I could go faster with each step I took. I wasn't even breathing heavily. I wanted more speed. Leaning forward slightly, I began taking longer strides. The wind buffeted against my clothes, a grin made its way across my face as I went beyond human limits. Suddenly everything started blurring around me. My steps faltered as vomit crawled up my throat. I came to a stop without losing my balance or crashing into anything. Leaning over I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. Well, that was a bad idea. Running too fast gave me tunnel vision apparently. Scrunching my eyes I forced the oncoming headache back. I could easily break records with that kind of speed. But my brain couldn't handle the sudden influx of information. My abilities must not have fully integrated yet. Christ. I'll just jog for now.

I reached the place soon enough. After a few minutes of waiting, a yellow bus stopped in front of me. Everyone inside it was either half asleep or trying to catch a nap. Taking a seat by the front rows I watched as the bus sluggishly tread its wheels towards Midtown high. Spring was turning into summer. There was a sense of content among the people walking to work. The school should be a few stops away. Maybe I can catch some shut-eye until then.

Peter didn't have many friends when he entered 10th grade. He had a few people he talked to, but he wasn't great at it.

But that was fine. he was one of the highest scorers in class, and he made aunt May and Uncle Ben proud. That was enough for the guy. I think it made Ben more than a little exasperated that Peter was so focused on his grades.

Ben's death happened early in the term. He was shot while picking up some groceries. Peter didn't know why the principal allowed him to leave early that day. He was quick to pick up why soon enough. Aunt May was sobbing in her armchair while an uncomfortable officer sat nearby. He was the one who broke the news to Peter.

Ben was a kind man. The only father figure he ever realize that he was no more broke him. I don't think he even processed it properly.

The funeral was a rushed affair. It was the last time Peter saw him. With hands as pale as his face and eyes closed forever, Uncle Ben left the world of the living.

He had to be strong for aunt May. He couldn't afford to cry. Aunt May had cried for both of them. It took peter everything he had to keep his composure. He would strive to be what uncle Ben knew he could be.

When you lose someone you love, you just want to be alone. Going back to school took a lot out of him. Nothing felt the same. He took solitude in the library. Reading everything he could and appreciating the silence. At least he had an outlet to channel his feelings. Many people vent by doing something physically exhausting. Some run, some fight and some scream in hysteria as they run down the street naked after doing hardcore drugs. But he exhausted himself by studying. Peter's social life was as active as a corpse's.

Who cares anyway? I wouldn't. But I have to. I need to make a better image for myself. It would make my plan a lot easier to implement. Having a healthy social life was very important. I'll give it a shot. Oh, I haven't mentioned my master plan, have I? It's not much; the only thing I'll have to do is-

"Get off the bus kid; you need an invitation or something?" Oh the bus was empty. I muttered an apology to the driver as I stepped out. He ignored me and floored the accelerator.

Tch. Screw him. Using peter's memories I made my way to the first class. I sat in Peter's usual seat doing my best to appear as normal as possible. I put down the bag at the side of the table making sure it leaned against the table and blocked the path near the rows a little to annoy the teachers when they walk by to see what we are doing. Adopting a casual posture I began to look around the classroom. It was surprisingly colorful. No one seems to have noticed anything different about me. My master plan is working smoothly. Once I get used to his habits, I'll be able to blend in more properly. If I pull this off correctly no one will suspect me of having powers. Knowing Peter's luck this is going to be phenomenally difficult, but I got nothing better to do. I am not staying up every night going on patrols and fighting gangsters. You have to be prepared for whatever this universe can throw at you.

Based on my new memories, I think this is an alternate version of the amazing spider man movie verse, the mcu and comics combined. Peter's gym classes had him watching captain America's motivational speeches last year and the guy looked similar enough to Chris from the movies. Tony Stark looked like Robert Downey and his parents died in a car crash in 1991. But spider man was born way too early. Companies like Oscorp and Frost industries were real. I'll need to buy some materials for researching my DNA, who knows? I might have an x gene.

Being a superhero would be cool if I got paid for it. But that's not how it works which is a shame. I'll take it as a hobby maybe. This world already has enough superheroes. The x men were a thing here. Government sponsored apparently. Accidents caused by mutations were almost unheard of. Almost all mutants who awaken their genes are sniffed out by the x men and recruited. So it's best if I let the heroes take care of that. The infinity gauntlet though? Hmm, maybe I can use it to return home, but it's kind of tough to get it, and I might be tempted to abuse that power too.

I looked around my class. I can't see any problems so far. Flash and the football team are sitting near the back. Liz and her friends are chatting to my right. And everyone else was doing their own thing. There were around thirty students in the class. Almost half the class was part of the football team. That was an odd way of promoting team spirit. Whatever, no one seems to give a shit.

The classes went on as usual and before I knew it lunch break had arrived. Walking towards the cafeteria I tried to see any familiar faces. The vast majority of people didn't even know I existed it seems. The canteen food wasn't as bad as i expected. I had brought a sandwich from home just in case though. I had no idea who the person sitting next to me was. It seemed the same was true for everyone in the table. Not that hard to blend in, all things considered. The kids sitting beside me turned out to share a class or two with me.

We exchanged phone numbers. We had a relatively silent meal. But it was fine; I am not a talkative person. Lunch break was over quickly. I give two nods to the kids on the table and left.

Hmm,Gwen Stacy was in my next class. Didn't Peter get together with her in the movie? Getting to my next class I sat in the front rows which were usually free. Nobody wants first seat in chemistry class. Coincidentally enough Gwen sat right next to me. She was too busy chatting with her friend, Caitlyn something, to notice me. Nothing notable happened. I made small talk with the guys beside me, but that was that. Today was a theory class. It wasn't anything interesting, I got bored easily. Half the class was checking each other out, those who didn't were checking out the teacher,me included. It was nice in a way. I guess my laziness transcends space and time. God this is so boring. Why did I even come here?

The bell rang before I knew it. The class was empty in a manner of seconds. I waited until the teacher packed her things and helped her lock up the class. It doesn't hurt to be nice you know? Plus she was kind of hot.

I walked towards the parking lot where everyone was rushing to the bus to grab the back seats. Peter never understood why things were like this. At the end, everyone sat in the same seats as before. That's when I saw a few bastards cop a feel of poor Caitlyn. Huh, now i know I even need to use the bus? I could run faster than it. Best not to given what happened today morning.

I noticed a small crowd forming near the parking lot. That was interesting. Let's check it out. Pushing my way to the front of the crowd, I see a scrawny kid being pushed around by Flash. Good old high school bullying. My interaction with Flash was limited. Before Ben's death, he was too busy trying to get in the sports team, I guess he is looking for prey now that's over. God help the poor soul hanging in his arms. I looked back at the bus. The students were settled by now. Well there's a nice window seat waiting for me. I began walking back.

The ride back home was as interesting as the ride to school. What can I say, I enjoyed the scenery. What would it feel like to swing around from building to building? The air rushing against him, The sky above and the city below...I was half tempted to make some web shooters and swing off a building. Oscorp released their Biocables recently. Uncle Ben had a few broken watches I could play with. I just need to compress the fluid carefully after replicating it; otherwise I would end up in a sticky situation. No aunt May, the sticky white stuff is just an experiment gone wrong, I promise.

It was a slow ride. I reached home around three. Opening the door I went straight into the kitchen.

"Oh Peter, you are back."

"Yep" I downed a glass of cold water. "How was your day?"

"It's getting on my nerves actually."

Opening the fridge, I made to sort through the contents. Huh.

"Ah, aunt may?"

"Yes Peter?"

"Why is the fridge almost empty?"

May came beside me and stared at the fridge.

"I forgot about that. Well, I suppose there's only one thing left to do."

"What?"

"Let's go shopping."

It's been two days since I came into this new world. Between classes and helping aunt may around the house, I haven't had time to test my abilities yet. This is something I was very excited about. I won't lie. Spider man may not be the most overpowered character in marvel, but he sure as hell can hold his own in a fight. I really wanted to know the extent of my powers.

I started jogging and searched for an empty place. Right now most public places would be crowded. An abandoned building or something of the likes will do. I increased my speed gradually. There was no nausea or sickness this time. Running around the neighborhood, I tried to familiarize myself with various alleys and buildings. Soon I began running into less populated areas. After half an hour I found a row of old warehouses next to a junkyard. Perfect. I climbed over the fenced walls and jumped down. God it stinks around here. I took a look around. There were a few frames of old cars. A few still had their rusted engines poking out the hood. A newly smashed up Silverado truck sat near some rubble and concrete. Spider man had varying levels of strength throughout his publications. Getting a good baseline will be my top priority. At least I will know who I can mess around with. Let's start with something small. A bent and rusted I beam laid over a smashed air conditioner. The beam should weigh a good two hundred kilos despite looking bent out of shape.

Alrighty then, I put my hands under the beam and lifted. The beam groaned as it went against gravity and came level with my chest. I freed up one of my arms and tried to balance it in one hand. The weight was dismissible. It felt like lifting a two pounds heavy barbell. I looked around for something heavier. Leaning down I gently put the beam back to its resting place. More like rusting place. Heh, Get it? After patting myself on the back for that, I went over to the smashed up Silverado. The truck was on its side and its wheels were deflated. It looked as if it was gonna fall apart any moment. Did it flip over or something? This thing was completely messed up. Even the chassis was broken. Moving further inwards, I came over an old school bus. This should do it. The engine was still in it. I did a little stretching and scoped out the bus. The frame looked strong. It can handle it. After feeling around beneath the engine, I grasped something solid. I took a deep breath and pulled. The bus creaked as its front wheels lifted. The wheels were level at my knees. I took another breath and exerted more strength. The bumper reached my waist. By this point the rear end started scraping the ground. I could go further, but I didn't want to strain my arms. After steadying myself, I began to lower the bus until the wheels touched the ground. Removing my hands I stared at them for a few moments.

"Hah, oh, oh my god." I laughed. Jesus Christ. Did I just do that? Is this how it feels to be strong? I wasn't even out of breath. My arms felt like they just did a set of push-ups. This power is wasn't even my upper limit. My body was getting better every day. I couldn't see the results, but I could feel it. The school bus was ten tons at the least. Did I? No. The rear wheels were still on the ground. I lifted maybe less than half its total weight. Let's put my strength stat at two tons. I am not increasing that until I can lift something more compact and heavy. One has to wonder how Peter didn't let this kind of strength get to his head. Other heroes do exist. Iron man could do the same I imagine. Maybe seeing them in action bought him some humility. Not to mention the ridiculous amount of villains he fought.

Leaving the bus, I made my way to the fenced wall. I had expected this ability to manifest on the last two days while I was doing everyday chores, but so far nothing had happened. I was a bit worried but it was overshadowed by anticipation.A shiver of excitement ran through my body. This is it. I am going to attempt Spider Man's most unique ability. It was bizarre in a way. Here I am, in the footsteps of a legend. The hero, whose struggle inspired millions around the world. I had to remind myself that this is not a dream. I closed my eyes and focused. The movies never clarified how it worked. But I knew the general gist of it. Cerebral wide alterations resulting in subconscious control over molecular boundary layers. Inter-atomic manipulation basically. But that was too vague.

They never fully expanded on his power. Did he manipulate molecules the same way a spider's hair grabs on to tiny faults or did he consciously manipulate the inter-molecular bonds between atoms? The first reason would make more sense given Peter's power set. It could be his powers mimicking a spider's ability to stick to surfaces by using an energy field instead of hairs. This explanation has the most merit given the lack of tiny hairs on my hands. Spiders can generate an electrical attraction between themselves and an object through van der Waals forces with the nano-meter thick structures on their legs. But this would mean that it's merely a way for his power to grant him wall crawling abilities without growing tiny hairs all over his body. But if the opposite is true, If he can actually manipulate the flux between inter-atomic bonds, then his power might have a lot more potential. A large part of this will depend on the universe I am in. Mayday Parker, daughter of Peter Parker had the unique ability to make her opponents stick to a metallic surface as long they both were in contact with it. Miles Morales could go invisible and channel electricity through his fists. The second theory can explain why they are able to do all that crazy stuff. Maybe I'll be able to replicate it.

Placing my hands on the wall, I concentrated. I thought about every movie or anime where the protagonist had to tap into an energy source. Naruto, Dragon ball, the works. Alright Parker. Feel the force. Become one with nature. Look behind what you see. Let the energy flow through you. I waited for five minutes before I gave up. I couldn't feel anything. There wasn't any internal storage of energy within me. Hmm. Maybe it's not stored within me. But my body must be able to access it somehow, similar to natural chakra, an external source of energy probably. I waited five minutes doing nothing but concentrating on myself. Right now, I want to climb with my hands. There is no reason so as to why I should not be able to do this. It's possible I just don't have that power. But even the Toby Maguire version could do it. I focused on my hands. I forgot about all the energy bullshit and focused on one thing alone. I didn't know what I was doing. But I knew what I wanted to do. I visualized crawling up the wall; I imagined what it would feel like. The feeling of concrete, my weight supported by my hands. Suddenly I felt something rush through my body. It happened too fast for me to really understand it. But in that instant I knew something had changed. I tried to move my hand. It didn't budge. I willed my hand down and it instantly came off. I carefully stared at the spot where my hand was in contact with the wall. Curiouser and curiouser. Placing both hands on the wall I attempted to recreate the iconic scene. Honestly, I felt kinda dorky doing it, but I was able to pull through. Instinctively I adopted a posture that would make crawling easier. Using all of my hands and feet were just overkill. Just two hands were enough. I didn't need to remove my socks and shoes but it was already done. Jumping down I put my shoes on and went back to climbing. After climbing over the walls on all fours, I tried to scale it with my feet alone. That didn't work. I had to catch myself with one hand to prevent my head from becoming paste. You need a lot of strength and balance to stand horizontally, it seems. I would need to train a bit.

Climbing down the walls on the other side of the fence, I made my way to the warehouses.

The grey painted buildings were uniformly built in neat little rows. They looked bout twenty feet high. Pretty tall I'd say. Squatting down with one leg and my other knee on the floor, I prepared to leap over the wall and on to the roof. Worst comes to happen, I stick to the walls before I crash into them. Sending a prayer above, I tensed my leg muscles and jumped. Launched might have been the correct word. I blazed past the warehouse and into the sky with the wind deafening my ears. My body felt like a streamlined missile exploding into action. As the ascent reached its peak, my knees began to move to my chest and my arms spread out looking to balance my body. Looking down I could see the outline of the warehouses growing bigger, the roof slowly approaching me. Just before impact, my legs uncoiled into a wide stance, my torso leaned forward and my hand made contact with the roof followed by my feet.

**Thud.**

Voila, a superhero landing delivered by yours truly.

I looked at my watch. Crap. A bit too late. Better get going I guess.

Fast forward three days, and I am walking back home after finishing my shift at the local bike shop. The owner was good friends with Uncle Ben. Aunt May basically guilt tripped him into giving me a job. He let me work at the counter and help the customers choose their bikes. The pay wasn't much at first, but once I changed a rear wheel in front of him, he promised to increase my pay if I took care of menial repairs. I knew my way around bikes before this life. It's easy work. I should have enough money to stop working here by the end of two months if everything works out.

As for the superhero side of things, nothing has happened so far. Everything has been going fine. Aunt May, Flash and Gwen Stacy are the only characters I encountered from the marvel universe till now. I haven't encountered a crime scene which would guilt me into being a superhero either. This is good. These eight years are going to be important. If Iron man debuts in two thousand eight, that's all the confirmation I would need. The invasion might go differently with the x men in play, but I know for sure that Thanos will not rest until he gets his stones. I will need to be in my best form to face him. Who knows what will happen to me when he snaps half the universe to death? I might not come back. If I am going to bite the dust I'll make him bleed before he does so. But I will need to acquire some things for that to happen. The quickest way to get them will be to acquire a lot of money.

My watch vibrated. "Inventing" smart devices are one of my many plans. The idea came to me when I was mixing chemicals for making a canister of spider web. I asked aunt may for Ben's phone and took it apart. I managed to make a SIM card and an SD card slot from it and somehow was able to cram all of it along with a very basic interface and an LCD screen into one of my old watches. The end result was not pretty. But it worked. I showed it to aunt May who was initially confused when her nephew shoved a bulky watch in her face. But she came around, after I displayed my basement and research notes to convince her that I didn't steal it. I will have to hire a lawyer though. Pretty sure a lot of the technology I used for it was patented already. Murdock was still studying, so I can't approach him. Wasn't there a lesbian lawyer in Jessica Jones? Maybe I can ask her. I don't know if I can trust her though. Maybe I'll apply for just the capacitive touch screen. Just imagine the investors. I guess I'll slowly introduce more technology later on. This will do for now.

The watch showed a missed a call from aunt may. Damn better hurry. Don't wanna end up late. I had started exercising and put on some weight since last week. Many people seem to have different things which worked for them. But exercising and sleeping was a constant. I knew that a personalized diet was better than just eating everything in sight, but until I examine my genes, I will have to make do with general guidelines. I brought the food and cooked it myself from the money I earned from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. Aunt may was confused, but I was eating healthy. So she he didn't have anything to say.

I went faster and ran for a mile or so. Each step was controlled. Every time my toes left the ground, I made sure to never jump or apply more force than necessary. It was amazing. I could feel the energy just coiling in my legs ready to be let loose and tear the ground apart. Turning around a corner I ran into a nearby alleyway. A Dead end was up ahead. The buildings on either side were at least thirty feet tall. Increasing my speed, I went for a straight dash until at the last second; I leapt on top of the dumpster by the wall. Bending my knees I jumped straight up. My hand caught the rooftop of the building. Vaulting myself over, I looked at the setting sun over the city skyline. These runs were getting addictive the more I did them. But it's worth it. I gazed over the street; people were slowly coming out to enjoy the evening. Better leave before anyone sees me. I turned away and leaped towards the edge of the next building. My fear of heights had decreased over the course of these runs. I have a little over fifteen minutes left to reach the house. A little parkour wouldn't hurt.

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**Alright ladies and gentlemen. We have come to the end of yet another glorious chapter. What will our hero do with his new found powers?**

**Tune in next time. Btw ****Do leave a review please.**


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys sorry for the delay. I just had too many ideas to focus on. The website incorrectly loading my chapters doesn't help either. Lord knows the amount of times I had to reupload a chapter. Well then onto the story we go.

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Two hundred. Two hundred and one. Two hundred and oh god no more. He had been exercising for over half an hour. A loud fleshy smack filled the air as his sweaty body hit the floor. How the hell did people do this? Exercising is stupidly harder than he thought it would be. Christ, Peter's everything hurts. He thought on whether he was going overboard with his workout routines. Even if the lactic acid build up was slow, it sure was exhausting when he reached that speaking his body was in ideal condition. He should get used to it soon enough.

Turning over to his back Peter let out a lungful of air. Do I have to do another set? The weighted pull ups took a lot out of him.

Training his arms and torso takes a lot of his time. He had to take care to concentrate on those parts as swinging around hundreds of feet high puts a lot of strain on them.

Getting up, He unfastened the chain from his waist. They were connected to spare wheels he had foraged from the junkyard. It wasn't professional equipment but it did the job. Not to mention how useless those equipments will be to him. Even the heaviest of weights could be lifted with his one arm. Working out the normal way wasn't cut out for him.

He had to scroll through endless scholarly publications and observe various exercise and dieting plans. Doing standard exercises didn't seem to work for him and he had to make new workout routines on the go. But Peter didn't want to approach it half cocked. It would be embarrassing if he missed any small tips that could save him a lot of time and effort. Many of them provided contradictory results, which didn't help him in the least, but he began noting down common variables and looked into what caused the deviations. He was lost for a while as he didn't know what to believe. In his search Peter came across information provided by people who had changed their bodies for the better. The stories all had a common thread it seemed. When he recognized what it was, the data collected didn't seem so disorganized or contradictory.

The way these organizations conducted their research varied greatly. Many important variables such as diets and lifestyle habits were not factored into it. Those can play a huge part in overall health. For example, Someone who smokes or drinks will have different results from someone who doesn't. Little things like that would explain the deviations. It was fascinating in a way. After hours of further research he had enough information on the ideal diet and exercise needed to keep a regular human healthy. Peter also noted down the maximum amount of strain he could place on his muscles and how often one should do it. Improper training can lead to wear and tear after all. There was a list of changes he had to work on, everything from posture to eating habits. Implementing them was the hard part. So many things could affect your body. Working out early morning and between school and work hours was getting tiresome. Furthermore it was stupidly expensive to eat healthy. My wallet flinched when ever I visited the farmers market. I had to reevaluate my plans to say the least. Keeping track of everything was the hard part. The only thing that kept me going was fear that I would encounter something out of my league and get screwed over if I wasn't prepared for it.

Getting off the floor, I made my way out of the garage. May's shift would be ending by now. Better take a bath before I pick her up. Tossing the clothes into the backseat, I went and took a quick shower. Getting in the car I rolled the windows down to let some air in. Shifting into reverse, I made my way out of the house and onto the road. The traffic was slow as the car grumbled beneath me. Revving the engine I shifted into first gear and began cruising. The Delta was an awesome car. Ben had good taste, whatever you might say about him. The engine produced a respectable amount of horsepower and it could stand next to a muscle car and still look sweet. It was also properly serviced, which was always a bonus. The only reason I didn't drive this to school is because of its less than stellar gas efficiency. But otherwise, it was a fine ass car. Aunt May still gets that far away look when I pick her up. Who knows what kind of shenanigans they did in this thing. Let's just hope I don't crash it.

...

The sunlight filtered through the glass canopy and illuminated the ball room. Waiters fluttered around tables with expensive drinks. Wealthy executives, ceo's and celebrities posed for photographers. What a joke. The amount of money that went into this event was more than what will be raised from it. Everyone in this room knew it was a publicity stunt. You can't run a company without goodwill. Especially when half of the people here was a big part of the New York newcomers, especially the younger demographic, looked uncomfortable and fidgety in the presence of those older and more powerful.

The attendees shuffled around the room. Somewhere in the crowd a man in a grey suit sipped from his glass of Champagne while reminiscing about his younger days. It was a tradition to some. He remembered the first time he came here with his father. It was where he first met Evelyn. Those were simpler times. The PR department had harassed him for days to get him here. At least they had good wine.

Norman wasn't having the best of days. Harry was being weird, the back pain was coming back and he was bleeding money on a stupid project.

His phone vibrated. Excusing himself from the gathering, Norman attended the call.

"What is it?" He wouldn't be interrupted unless it was something important.

"General Ross attempted to contact you today." Shoot. The military contract was not going anywhere. Ross probably wanted an update on his project. There were so many problems to tackle. He didn't even know where to begin. The blood samples he acquired were insufficient. The DNA structure was incredibly complex and so far they couldn't make heads or tails of it, much less recreate it.

"He requested a report on the current development on the serum"  
Norman wondered how Ross would react to an empty bottle.. The leading theories among his scientists were that even if the serum was reverse engineered, it would have to be altered to match the DNA of the recipient. Genetics is a complex subject. Every individual has a unique genetic code that designs their body to react in certain ways to certain elements. Altering the serum to bond with a soldier would be a lengthy procedure. That is not an easy process. The blood sample given to him was too little. Isolating the serum was an incredibly hard process with miniscule success rates. It's a shot in the dark at this point. God knows how it will interact with a dormant x gene. Those things make even less sense.

Maybe he should add some steroids into the prototype serum and call it a day. Ross wouldn't notice the difference anyway.

"He left a message for you, sir. He will be visiting this Thursday."  
Cursing to himself, Osborn checked his watch and rubbed his forehead. Maybe he was drinking when he signed that project.  
"Is there anything else?"Maybe Stark got abducted by terrorists and had his smug head chopped off.

"Dr. Connor wants to see you, sir. He wanted to know when you were free." What could Curtis want? He hadn't spoken to him in a while.

"Make some time in my schedule, would you?" Cutting his call short, he made to head inside and forget about his worries.

...

"Will you be going alone?" Anna asked as she chatted May in the hallway. She hadn't talked with her in days.

"No Anna, Peter will be picking me up today. He got his driver's license earlier this week." It was nice to see him going out again. Something had changed.

"How is he holding up May?" It had been quite a while since Anna had seen Peter. The poor boy was barely holding it together when Ben died.

May tightened her cardigan. "He is getting better, I think. You know how teenagers are. No one knows what's going on inside their head."

Anna giggled. "You know exactly what goes inside their head. You were once young too."

May gave a tiny laugh. "I am sure it's nothing like that."

The shift went by quickly enough and soon it was time to leave. Getting up, she packed her bag and ensured she didn't leave the handgun behind. Ben never used it as far as she knew. It was a hand me down from his father. Considering what happened to him, it was a good idea to have it around.  
May's phone rang. It was Peter.

"Hello?"

"I am running a little late, don't worry I'll be there in ten minutes."

"I'll wait inside then."

"I'll call you when I get there." Getting back inside, May waited for ten minutes and then went out again.

He should be here by now. The Oldsmobile crawled to a stop in front of her. Peter reached across the cabin and opened the door.

"You're a bit late today."

"Sorry about that, I went the wrong way and had to turn around."

After a few failed starts, the car started. Crossing a busy intersection, Peter hit the gas pedal on a relatively empty road.

"What happened to Mrs. Watson? I haven't seen her lately." He was curious. Mrs. Watson was a family friend of the Parkers. She came around for a dinner every now and then. But as far as he knew, she never talked about her family.

"Apparently her sister is coming for a visit. She has a little cleaning to do."

They both snorted. There's a reason Anna comes over and not the other way.

Taking a left they went to a smaller road. May looked through her handbag. She knew she kept a bottle here somewhere. They were five more minutes away from the house. She heard an unfamiliar noise and looked up, other than a man walking away from his car the streets were empty, probably the car's engine acting up. That's when Peter slammed the brakes. May jolted forward as the seat belt pulled against her chest painfully. The purse flew out of her lap along with her water bottle.

"What was that for?" May asked as she rubbed her chest. At least the bottle didn't spill. May looked out the window to see if peter had hit anyone.

Seeing none, May turned to look at him. She was met with tightly drawn brows and stiff shoulders. Gripping the wheel tightly, Peter's hands looked as if they were about to snap it off. When did he put on so much muscle?

Not saying a word, his expression turned to one of intense focus. Pulling the gear down, he floored the gas pedal as soon as the clutch reached its biting point. The car protested as it took a fast reverse. Just as suddenly, Peter took a hard right. Before the car could flip over or lose traction, he shifted back into first gear and kicked the brakes. Taking a left, peter went right back the way they came in and parked the car on the side of the road, a street away. May was ready to have a heart attack by the time the car had stopped when Peter started emptying his stomach out the window. Calming her still beating heart she began to pat him on the back as he emptied his lunch on the sidewalk.

...

"I see." Officer Stacy replied as he fiddled with the cup of coffee in his hand. It was his second time meeting the Parker family and the circumstances weren't any better.

"Can you describe what you saw?"The faint smell of vomit lingered around Peter. He was the only one to witness the incident.  
"I was turning into street 45. Aunt may was looking into her purse when it happened. I saw a man approaching a car parked by the street. He proceeded to take out a gun, shot the driver and walked away."

Murder was all too common in this city. But this was unusual even for New York. The victim had a clean record. There was nothing about him that would warrant intentional murder. Maybe its just a mugging gone wrong. But George wanted to make sure.  
"Can you recognize the culprit?"

"Yes, I can" Peter replied. His eyes were glazed, replaying the memory again and again. It was a face he hoped to never see on his daughter.

He made to call a sketcher. Hopefully Peter remembers something. Half an hour later, George was looking at the portrait of the man who had committed the murder. A familiar face stared back at him. He had seen this man. He was sure of it.

The man went out and began searching through the police database. Pulling up a file he began shifting through the suspects of more recent cases. It was a long search but he finally had him. Taking a deep breath he walked back to the Parker's.

Peter's hands were shaking. He couldn't think straight. He wanted to forget it all. Aunt May put her hands on his. It calmed him down somewhat.  
It's a peculiar feeling that we all have once in a while. But it never hit him as hard as it did when that man bled out in the car. We are all the same. We may think otherwise but it's not true. Every person you see has their own shit to deal with. They have their ups and downs, their own crushing moments, their dreams, hopes and ambitions to fullfill. We are all just trying to survive in this crazy world where we don't know what could happen tomorrow. And it can be flickered out with the pull of a trigger. Fuck. Was he even doing the right thing? Life is so fragile. What if it was him?

May was sitting right beside him. She was worried out of her mind. I looked at her. I couldn't handle it if something happened to her. She was all I had left. Despite my initial hesitation, aunt May had taken a place in my heart. I can only be grateful that she was looking elsewhere at that moment. My hyper cognitive eyes didn't spare me any details. Everything was rendered clearly and all I could do was watch. Although the car was a few good feet away, I could still see everything. From the recoil of the gun to the gore from the exit wound. I could hear his heartbeats. The confused nerves making his hands twitch, reaching for something but never finding it. His last breaths were raspy and grating as his heart stilled. Another soul lost to the oblivion.

What happened next was merely instinctual. Adrenaline exploded in my veins. My senses went into hyper drive as I drove back. May's heartbeats were as loud as drums to my ears. My spider sense started pulsing when I turned the car around. Fuck that. I got out of the place as fast as I could before the shooter decided he wasn't done yet.

Someone entered the room. I looked up. It was Gwen's dad again. Huh. I can kind of see the resemblance.  
Sitting down he went through the files in his hands.  
"Based on the sketches, we have reason to suspect that the killer could be the same person who murdered Ben Parker."

What? I immediately sat up. Aunt May never talked about it. As far as I knew, it was a cold case.

"He was a former inmate. Lifetime sentenced for nine murders. His last suspected murder was your uncle's."

Officer Stacy put a photo on the table. A lanky man with messy red hair stared at him. He was smiling, but there was an edge to it. His eyes glinted with something wild.  
"Yeah, that's him all right." Well, I think I know where this is going.  
"Well then, that will be the 11th victim."

"Of whom?"

"Cletus Kasidy"  
Motherfucker.

* * *

it's pouring

It's raining

Cletus is hunting.

Hahahahaha.

That's it for today guys, do leave a review. See ya sons of guns next time.


	4. Mad for Madeline

**Hey guys, I reposted this chapter because of grammar mistakes from uploading from my phone. **

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The TV was black for a few moments before the blurry image of a room began to appear. There were several untidy tables with upturned cups and stacks of papers strewn all over them. The scene blurred again as the camera was picked up by a man with dark circles and tired eyes that were framed by his messy brown hair which stuck to his forehead.

He began speaking and quite contrary to his appearance he had a calm and gentle voice."Stage two is progressing quite well actually, we managed to scrounge together enough materials to make two samples. The first round of trials comprising animal experimentation was a resounding success. Readings were as expected and the subjects have shown no abnormal activity. The extraction process is scheduled for tomorrow and hopefully none of them dies during the process."

"On a similar note, while observing the current data I have discovered some faults with the prototypes which were taken from us.I can only hope that they sort it out."

Taking some papers, he began to explain the various processes he had gone through to develop the current prototypes.A small frown appeared on his face as he got into the more intricate details concerning their project. While explaining the process for bonding the prototype to a subject the geneticist looked at the camera with an uncertain expression.

"Unfortunately the prototype has significant difficulties in interpreting the host's commands for conducting complex actions, as such we have decided that the current method is not ideal for experimenting with larger organisms. We are planning to use research from the Stark industry microsurgery departments recent nanobots. Dr. Connor has agreed to arrange a meeting with one of the lead researchers. If all goes well, we might be able to replicate their nanites with a biological version."

"Rick! where did you put the cold storage unit?" A much rougher voice called out.

"Its near the refrigerator." The man yelled back.

The TV flashed before the screen went dark again.

'_That was interesting, to say the least_.'

He was searching for his misplaced prototype web shooters when he came upon a box labeled Project V. He didn't figure out what the V stood for until he went through the contents were eye opening to say the least. This was another variable he hadn't accounted for. Richard Parker and Eddie Brock were the creators of the venom symbiote. What a plot twist.

Their research would have revolutionized the world if they had succeeded. Unfortunately the company they were working for claimed the research for themselves while they were at an important stage.

Not willing to give up, both men put together their own funds to create a second and improved version. They had different interests regarding their research. Richard focused on streamlining it into a medical cure it all while Brock was more interested in combat applications. Unfortunately that project was abandoned. Brock died in a plane crash while carrying the stage two unfinished prototype and Richard didn't have the heart to continue the research after that.

Along with the video tapes were some of his father's possessions. One of them included his Oscorp ID and a newspaper cut out of him and .

_'Maybe I should pay him a visit.'_

Getting out the basement, he went to the kitchen. May was over at Mrs. Watson's house helping her clean up which meant he had the whole house to himself. _'Yeah, I flunked out. No way I am gonna clean that mess up.'_

On the bright side he made some headway on his wall sticking powers, to the point that he could walk up walls, even while wearing his shoes. It became a lot easier the more he practiced it.

Opening the refrigerator with a finger, he looked around for some food.

_'Ah empty as always. Maybe it'll be different after ten minutes.'_

Humming to himself, he climbed up the stairs and went to his room. _'Might as well start training.' _ Taking a piece of paper, he began to concentrate. He had been practicing for hours by now. Focusing on his hand, Peter flipped a mental switch in his mind causing something to rush towards his hand. It was partly inspired by a show he had watched during his previous life. The only difference was that he was using paper instead of a leaf, and trying to exercise his power over charged particles. A few days ago his control was abysmal, but he was improving everyday. Despite the lack of instructions he had manage to get rudimentary understanding on how to use his powers. Wall crawling was an instinctual use, a brute force reaction, but there was so much more to his ability.

He was learning to harness it for different purposes. Mainly because he thinks it would look super cool to have lighting hands, but back to the moment in hand.

Visualizing what he wanted and consciously tapping into his power was the first step. The rest just came to him. Electrons and protons moving in sync under his will. Manipulating the building blocks of existence. The electrical field holding together all the atoms in the universe. He began to feel something. It was slight and he didn't know what it was, but it was there.

Back in the junkyard, when his hands were in contact with the wall, he had felt something rush through his body an onto his hand. It had left a faint hand print on the wall. Almost like a bastardized version of the mark of Kaine. Trying to replicate the same feat, he began pouring out more power, the hairs on his arms began to stand up as the paper began to crinkle. Electrons have no mass. They have the properties of both particles and waves. If he can control them in that third state where it can take the form of a seemingly solid state- There. Suddenly it all clicked.

_'come on, just a little more.'_ A liquid warmth burst forth from the back of his neck and spread through his torso. A soft crackle was the only warning he received before high speed electrons burst the paper into flames burning his hand slightly.. Yelping the startled teenager threw down what remained and furiously shook his smoking fingers.

_'Yes, I am the man bitches'_ Looking at a nearby mirror he did a hip thrust

_'The theory was correct after all.'_

_'Move over Magneto, there's a new kid in town.'_

** .**

_'huh, that was fast, May should have taken a lot more time to finish that mess.'_

Jumping down the stairs, he quickly reached the dining room when his phone rang. Answering the call, he made to the front door when the bell rang again.

"Hello?"

"Hey Peter, something came up. I'll be arriving a bit late today."

"No worries. I knew it would take time."

Cutting the call short, Peter put the key in and unlocked the door. Just when he was about to open it, He froze.

_'If May called me right now, then who the hell is at my door?._

Confusion swam across his features, until realization dawned on him.

_'Fuck, it's Kasady isn't it?'_

The super powered teenager ghosted his fingers over where the web shooters would be._'where is it when I need it?'_

Tensing his body, Peter quickly jumped up to the ceiling. Praying to god he was wrong. He called out to the visitor.

"Who is it?"

He waited for a tense few seconds as he prepared to run the other way.

"I am Madeline. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to street 37?"

Bursting in relief, Peter jumped down and opened the door.

_'oh man this is who i was so nervous about? ugh, my spider sense would have alerted me if a serial killer was at my doorstop. how dumb can i be?'_

A middle aged woman under five feet five greeted him. The brunette was one of the most docile looking women he had ever seen. Oddly enough she looked very familiar, though he couldn't figure out why.

"After that just take a left." He finished while observing her face. She is definitely familiar.

"Thank you so much." She replied.

"Sure miss. Have we ever met before?"

The woman raised an eyebrow and gave him a smile.

"I don't think so. I am sure I would have remembered meeting you."

"Oh well, Have a safe trip.."

"I'll be on my way then."

She left and Peter went back to his basement thanking god it wasn't a Kasady.

Madeline got into her car with her daughter.

"Did you find the way?"

"I did. You might want to note that address down. That boy was a tasty hunk."

Smirking at her groaning daughter, Madeline drove the car towards her sister's house.

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**Hey guys hows it hangin? I know what you are thinking.. _where's carnage?_ Relax I gotcha. But we have a bigger question today...Who is Madeline?**

**Peace.**

**p.s whoever can guess the training reference gets a cookie**


	5. Connor's conundrum

**Welcome back to another chapter you scalawags. Without further delay, Let's just jump into it.**

**IMPRTANT. slight tweaks to grammar and dialogues thats why it was updated. New chapter is coming soon.**

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"Mr. Osborn, glad you could make it."

A very disorderly scientist greeted him as he exited his car.

Norman paused in his steps before his expression became had been working together for almost two decades by now. Suffice to say, Norman could detect that Curtis was unsettled. He probably had a lab accident or something.

"You're not one for pleasantries , Why did you need to meet me so urgently?"

The blond Doctor shifted his weight from foot to foot without looking at him. Finally he turned to the elevator.

"We have a lot to talk about."Offering nothing more, he gestured for Norman to follow him. Entering the elevator, Norman pressed the underground floor. Looking to make conversation, he turned to Connors.

"How do you think the Oz formula is coming along?" Norman asked with crossed arms.

"Oh well, you know. It's something." The man frowned and smoothed over his coat lapels. Something must be really bothering him.

"I am sure it is. I remember giving you the first samples. What do you think of it?" Norman repeated himself.

"We'll go over it in my lab."

This was a new level of evasiveness. Norman feared to find out what Curtis was so anxious about.

Both men returned to silence as the doors opened. Walking down an empty hallway they reached a secure room.

Inserting his security card, Connorsr entered his quarters when the door slid open.

The lab was very much a reflection of the man who used it. Neat, clean and clinical. The entire was filled to the brim with equipment and notes on the various projects the man had taken over the years. All of his personal belongings were sequestered away to a small desk in one corner of the room. Approaching the desk, he sat down on the comfy chair and waited for Connors.

Norman put both elbows on a desk and crossed his fingers while Connors fetched a flask and bought two cups of water.

Sitting down Curtis sighed to himself and began speaking.

"Let's go over the serum first. We have been avoiding that issue long enough." He took a sip from his cup and looked Norman in the eye.

"The formula is not going to work." He winced. The ramifications would be huge. Damn it. He should have put more effort into it.

"Why do you think so Curtis?" Despite him not being assigned to the project, Curtis had enough authority in his department to occasionally advice the team. Never mind the finished samples he himself had given to the geneticist.

Curtis reached towards the stacks of files around him picoed one without looking. Opening it, he took a page and slid forth a picture towards the millionaire. Keeping eye contact with him Norman picked the photo and flipped it expecting to see all the reasons because of which the serum failed. What he got was a picture of a mouse. Confused, he glanced up at the geneticist.

"That's mickey. Twenty four hours after serum injection, he began to convulse intensely. We initially assumed that his body was rejecting the foreign elements. However, this went on for well over twelve hours which was highly unusual, to say the least."

"Why would that happen?" He knew that the serum was imperfect. But he had expected physical deformities, not seizures. The serum was designed to alter physiology at the molecular level to augment one's strength, he had not anticipated any mental backslashes.

The one armed Doctor shrugged and slid another photo towards him.

"That's mickey after thirty six hours."

Mickey had grown. He was taller and more muscular. Disturbingly enough he looked slightly human due to his unnatural features.

Dear God, when did Arnold Schwarzenegger become a mouse?

The muscles on this mouse could make bodybuilders jealous.

"Curtis, does this mean that the serum works?"This was great news. It meant that the serum worked despite the initial reaction. He would just need a diluted version which he could fine tune. The aforementioned doctor shook his head.

"No. Mickey died a few hours later."

"How?" Norman it, just when I thought I could catch a break.

"His internal organs couldn't handle the sudden changes. They all broke down under the stress."

Stress? That would make sense. Probably due to the extreme metabolism rates and unpredicted cell growth.

Norman began tapping his foot on the floor. Maybe if he continued with a diluted version as he had initially planned...

"Have you conducted further experiments Curtis?"

"Yes, with varying levels of success, but the results remained the same."

Drinking from his cup of water, Norman stared at both photos. So that option was out. What else is There. We have a rapid muscle growth enhancer but its missing something. There had to be something here. He knew it.

While Norman was deep in thought, Connor decided that he might as well tell him why he called him.

"Norman." He looked up to see Connor leaning over with his arm on the table with an unreadable look on his face.

"Yes?"

"This might sound like a bad idea."

Oh it was definitely going to be a bad idea.

"But I might have a solution to our problem." The Doctor was out of his chair and on the table.

"And what might that be?" Norman asked while leaning away from the ever encroaching mad man.

With the craziest glint in his eyes, Connor said,

"Why don't we mix the Oz serum with the Lizard serum?"

The Lizard serum? Wasn't that one of Connor's old projects? He abandoned it halfway because of some reasons though. Why would he bring that up? Unlesss...he had to confirm it.

"That's... not a bad idea?" He paused leaning backwards and stood up.

Norman began to walk around the lab while thinking to himself.

Hmm, the oz formula certainly has the capability to enhance the human body. The problem I guess is that a human will not be able to survive the extensive modifications. But on the other hand, if we use the regenerative properties of the Lizard serum...

The millionaire stopped pacing and turned to face the doctor.

"We have seven days to make a working prototype. What can you feasibly accomplish in that time period?" The lizard serum despite it's incredible regenerative properties still had adverse side effects. He wasn't very confident about it.

Curtis adjusted his glasses.

"We don't need seven days."

"Then when will it be complete?" The faster they could do this, the better it'll be. Even if the end product didn't work, they'll still have done something.

Conner's hand came up to his collar and pulled it to let some air flow in. After spending a better part of his life negotiating with investors, Norman could spot when someone was in an uncomfortable spot.

"Curtis." Norman called out to him. The man almost flinched despite his gentle tone.

Grasping the table with his remaining arm, Connor took a deep breath before speaking.

"I already did it. I took the super soldier oz serum and added a diluted version of the lizard serum. We have a working prototype."

Norman's legs shook. That was an unsanctioned experiment. What was he thinking? The board would have his head if they ever found out. They would be fucked if anyone found out. Unfaltered, the geneticist continued his speech.

"When I injected the mice with the new formula, all of them died. The formula was unstable. I refined it further. Even added some cas9 and RNA from my previous research on cross genetics."

Curtis paused and put a file on the table. Opening it, he retrieved some photos and gave them to Osborn. Still shell shocked from Connors recent revelation, he nimbly went through them.

"What you are looking at is test subject 2. A genetically engineered spider which was subjected to the new Oz formula. Within twelve hours the spider evolved. It was stronger, faster and more agile."

Osborn, still processing everything that just happened went with the flow and ignored the feeling of dread.

"That's great. But why did it work on the spiders and not the mice?".

Connor adjusted his glasses and gave him a small smile. If Curtis wasnt an amputee he would have chewed him apart right then and there.

"The spider used in the test was the last one of the first first generation of cross breeds. Multiple subjects were used but only this one survived."

"Did the first generation perhaps have some unique characteristic that diluted itself after multiple generations?"

"No."

"Was it because of some other external factor?."

"Correct, during our days of working together, Richard once exposed a couple of spiders to gamma rays. After not observing any abnormal changes, we forgot about them. Our little buddy here is coincidentally the last remaining spider from that batch."

"Fascinating." Norman said while reaching for his glass of water. Taking a long sip he calmed himself. No one knew about it yet. He could still get permission and fake an experiment while withholding the result. Yes, that would work.

"Yes, fascinating indeed." Connor nodded in agreement.

Then he seemed to remember something. "Oh, by the way, the spider escaped."

Norman choked. What the fu-

"Thought you ought to know."

Thought I ought to- Damn it. Coughing out water and spit, Norman glared at the doctor who found the table very fascinating for some reason.

'That's what he was acting so cagey about.'

"In my defense, it was your idea to give the intern's more responsibility."

He was throwing curtis under the bus. No doubt about it.

"Nevertheless I have good news. We managed to capture it."

These men will be the death of me.

Norman let out a sigh of relief."You got me for a second there."

Curtis let out a chuckle."I know. You are really stressed out these days."

"Tell me about it." The two men sat in silence for some moments.

"Say Norman, what do you think would have happened if that spider had bitten someone?"

He remained quiet for a few seconds before answering.

"Probably a billion dollar lawsuit for unprofessional conduct of a non-government approved project involving experimentation with radioactive chemicals and forced human trials. The stocks will drop like hot pockets resulting in massive lay offs and selling off of assets. We would be ridiculed for the rest of our lives while rotting in prison. Why do you ask?"

Curtis took a long gulp of water. "Oh you know, just thinking."

**And that's it for today. I'll see you guys soon enough. We just hit 1000 views, really appreciate the support. Anyways I'll see you sons of guns next time.**

**p.s Please leave reviews guys. It helps a lot for an amateur writer.**

**Sayonara.**


	6. chapter 6?

A lone figure gazed at the roads of mercer street, trying to convince himself to do something.

'_confidence and guts. come on peter man up.'_

Hyping up, the boy looked to the city lights.

It was unusually quiet tonight, which was kind of strange when you point out that the rest of new York was still doing something. Considering it worked out to his advantage, he had nothing to complain about.

Closing his eyes, peter turned his back to the yellow lit streets.

_'Alright Parker, on three.'_

Leaning back he began the countdown.

_"_one."

'_do I have to do this?'_

A bird flew and perched nearby to watch him.

_"_two."

'_shouldn't we use a harness or a rope? it's awfully high up here.__'_

_"_three."

He fell.

The wind ruffled his baggy clothes as he accelerated faster and faster.

_'enhanced reflexes? __you can come in now, the doors wide__ open and the pavement is even closer.'_

Within a couple of seconds he was halfway down the building and losing hope.

_'come on, come on, I didn't come here to test my impact resistance.'_

His senses expand, registering everything around him. It all became clear. The velocity of his fall, the gravitational force, anchor points it all came to him. He knew what to do.

_'I hope so at least.'_

Peter's eyes suddenly opened. His back arched as his body whirled to become parallel to the ground. Muscles he didn't know he had sprung into actions.

He pressed his fingers to his wirst and a web quickly shot towards the top of a building. The string quickly grew taut under pressure and turned his fall into a graceful arc. Trusting his spider sense he pulled it with both hands and gravity wailed as he was abruptly yanked up towards the black sky.

"Wooohooo..."

His heart pumped furiously as he let out a shout of exhilaration. Adrenaline flowed through his veins diffusing his body and clearing his mind. He let go of the string and shot another towards a balcony. Swinging in a curved trajectory he bled off all his gathered momentum as he ploughed through the air and flew towards the night. The air whipped against his hoodie trying to shake it off. But the power of duct tape was not to be ignored.

A bout of liquid warmth erupted from his neck as he let go of the web warning him of the danger below.

Flicking a string to the skies above, he brought his legs close to his torso and continued the descent. The ground was coming too close for his liking and the string hadn't hit anything.

Just before he began to panic, the web pulled taut and pulled him up.

Guided by instincts his muscles moved on their own. Letting go off his web, he instinctually curved into a ball and rolled mid flight. Reaching an intersection, he unfurled his body and shot a web to his right. Altering his direction he continued swinging between the streets of new york.

The amateur webslinger was safe from onlookers at this time of the night. His spider sense made sure to keep him well above the illumination of the streetlights and away from people's eyes.

Coming out of a mid air back flip, he shot towards one of the taller buildings and pulled himself to it's sides. Jumping straight on top of the building he quickly rolled to the ground.

The cold wind was a welcome relief. He could now understand why spiderman chose to travel this way.

'_It was fucking awesome, that's why.'_

Getting on his knees, peter removed his hoodie to reveal bright blond hair and dark overalls. Not an inch of his skin was revealed. Rifling through his pockets, he took out his disaster of a mask and some latex gloves. The wig was a hassle to get but it fit him well. The mask was made of his old shirt and was very thin.

He had gone over the plan many times and had prepared many contigencies in case of failures, but he found himself going through it again.

It was a crazy idea. Something he wouldn't have dreamed of doing in his previous life. But hey there were dumber things he could do and this one was relatively tame.

After suiting up, the teen went to the precipice of the building. He had hacked into the campus records to find out his target's residence.

Eddie was in brooklyn visiting his grandfather, he wouldn't be coming back anytime soon.

Peter ran to the edge of the building and leaped. Landing on a rooftop on all fours, he slowly crawled until he was eye level with the apartment. There was a gap of twenty five feet between him and the building.

Steeling himself he coiled his legs and focused on where he should land. Just before he was about to leap off, he faltered.

Something about this seemed off. He wouldn't usually jump the gun like this.

Peter's hands clenched into fists.

Well, having a serial killer after you is a good reason. The prototype suit would be an immense combative upgrade. If cletus has the symbiote, he _will_ need another suit.

The past few days were the busiest he had been since he came to this world. The incident with Cletus had shook him a lot more than he would admit. He thought he knew violence. By God, he was wrong. The sheer viscerality of it was shocking.

A dirty mess. That' what it was. Then again, how long did he have before it happens again?

It's almost as if he was seeking out conflict. Didn't he despise illegal actions unless it was necessary?

He couldn't live a normal life. This universe wouldn't allow him to do that. Whatever is driving the narrative will introduce conflict somehow. Cletus was just a warning.

He didn't want to fight but it would be foolish of him to not prepare for it. Hand to hand combat was something he had no experience in, his only saving grace was his strength and spider sense, otherwise he would be reduced to fighting dirty.

There was no urgent need to acquire the suit right now. He should at least talk with Eddie before doing this. Besides, it still has its own disadvantages. He could fuck with carnage in other ways.

'_how late is it?'_

Two hours. That's how long Eddie will be away for. Aunt may was busy with an unexpected night shift. She won't be home until dawn. Sitting down on the ledge, he looked over the city.

'_With great power comes great responsibility, huh? __'_

A few men walked on the streets. He didn't know why they would want to get out this late, probably out of necessity if he had to guess. A group took shelter in an alleyway in the cold night. Most of them looked dazed out of their minds, they were probably homeless too.

It's kind of crazy to think that he could have been one of them instead of being Peter. What would he have done if that had happened?

Some people would kill for where he was. To top it all of he was even given superpowers.

'_I really did hit the jackpot didn't I?'_

Simply being peter would have been pretty cool too. Even without spiderpowers, the kid was super smart. Not Tony stark smart, but he knew his shit. Everything from blacksmithing to quantum tunneling.

He took of his mask and put it in his pocket. Working his way back, he fetched his hoodie and put it on.

He didn't want to waste his webbing so Peter decided to take a cab ride.

Of course finding a taxi this late was a feat in of itself, but he managed it.

They soon reached the bridge connecting Manhattan to Queens. It was a beautiful sight as far as he was concerned.

The LED on his webshooter blinked. They were for the most part electronic, but he had integrated them into a pair of steel armguards he had welded together from some scrap metal. They wouldn't be stopping bullets anytime soon, but they sure as hell increased his storage space and made sure it didn't fall of or anything.

The smartwatch had to be cannibalized for the frame. It was very ineffecient anyway, the battery life was horrendous and he could live without it.

The new webshooter's could also alter the web's shape and constituency by changing the dials. That had required some effort as he had to program a whole new process into them to respond faster and pick up on subtle signals. But it was worth the effort.

He was also working on a prototype heads up display. Now that was a real tough nut to crack. Compressing that much processing power and hardware into such a limited space was nearly impossible.

_'A helmet would work, but it's overkill for just a HUD, maybe a headphone will do_.'

Snapping his fingers, he felt the buzz of weak currents crackling on his skin. In the dark, he could see the neon blue of static electicity on his hands.

_'hmm, I wonder if I can tap into stored chemical energy, that will be useful.'_

The cab had crossed the bridge and was a little ways away from where he lived.

Peter got off as soon as the cab reached queens. It was a lot for a ride but he didn't care. The driver took the cash and booked it, he wasn't gonna talk to anyone who was out so late.

It was a full moon tonight.

'_Wonder if there are any werewolves around. Best to stock up on some silver weapons. wait, weren't those for vampires? Damn another thing to research.'_ He was making a database for those kinds of things. You never know who you will have to fight.

Every marvel character he had heard about was in there. Everything from their abilities, personality, weaknesses, origins, feats and storylines were written down with an overall ranking beside them. A parody of the bingo book basically. All that was remaining was to make effective strategies to take them down. Carnage was at the top of his list right now.

_'All of his murders were committed with knives, blunt force trauma and the occassional bullet here or there. Although that's not definitive proof, there's a good chance he hasn't bonded to a symbiote yet.'_

From his understanding all symbiotes have a weakness to sound, electricity and fire. High levels of it can severly weaken them but it has never conclusively killed them. Carnage is a special case too, he was one of the stronger symbiotes, powerful enough to take on spiderman and venom at the same time.

_'__My electricity based powers are not enough to beat him. Maybe shock batons or a couple high grade explosives could work. The comics never said anything about sulphiric acid. hmm another avenue then.'_

A moan of pain cut through the silent night.

Peter paused. He wasn't far away from home. He had not expected crime to be that prevelant in his area of residence. Taking a detour he went to investigate the source.

He knew something would happen today. Might as well get it over with.

_..._

* * *

**At, forgot to add this. Yeah I know its a short chapter, but things will be picking up soon enough. Do point out any grammatical or spelling errors, it really helps me a lot.**

**Other than that, well, where do you guys think this story will go? Which characters would be involved?**

**I might integrate some of it.**

**Cya**


	7. Chapter 7

**sorry about the formatting guys. I have updated the chapter again. Sometimes publishing from your mobile can have weird side effects**

Pain. Agonizing tear jerking pain. That was all he could feel. It ran through his ribs and arms throbbing with his every breath.

He heard voices in the distance. Someone was shouting. It hurt his ears. He wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep. Just a little longer.

Staring down at the four men running towards him with baseball bats and switchblades, Peter felt a slight tinge of wariness as he tensed for the confrontation.

Now this would be the time he started running for his life. After all, a fight between a kid who has never seen real combat in his life and four screaming muscleheads could only go one way.

The fight would be over in five minutes.

Peter was a short man in his previous life. That wasn't particularly bad per say but it did bother him that if things got ugly, he could get banged up real quick.

He always kept a list of people heabsolutelycould not fuck with.

Simply being tall wasn't enough to get into the list, his dad for example could beat his ass black and blue and still finish a days worth of work despite being three inches shorter than him. Old people are dangerous like that. But if you were a big person you would get a solid three on his danger scale.

It was something that was ingrained into him. Whenever he was near strangers who were physically stronger than him, he was always on edge. Even with close friends he couldn't quite get over it.

The first combatant leaped at him with a knife in hand. Rage clouded his features, turning an otherwise attractive face into an ugly visage of fury. Not that he could blame him.

He would be pissed too if a gangly kid kicked his friend in the balls and accused him of having innapropriate relations with his mother. It was understandable. The guy he kicked was still squirming in pain.

The attacker lashed out with his blade seeking to crave it into his enemy's flesh. Peter stepped aside quickly while grabbing onto his wirst.

People often miss this point of having superpowers. The sole reason why everyone wants them is simple. They want to want to stand out from the crowd. What he never understood however was why every hero ever had to go on some sort of self sacrificing quest when their wish was already granted.

Pulling the thug's wirst he raised his knee to his opponent's stomach. It was sloppy and wouldn't have done much damage in normal circumstances. But when you factored in his super strength, perhaps it was for the best that he didn't know how to fight properly. The impact caved in the soft flesh regardless. He 's definitely going to leave a mark.

"Sorry." He apologized, not that the man cared.

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by his spider senses making him jump next two closed in on him from either side forming a pincer attack. The last one stood at the back reaching for his sidearm.

There was a distance of about ten feet between him and the gunman. He had to incapacitate him first.

In an ideal situation he could easily shoot some web at the gun and jam it. But he was actively trying to conceal his powers, hence he couldn't use them.

Seeing his time run out, Peter moved to confront the two men. The one to his right reached first and swung a baseball bat at him. He took the hit on his forearm without flinching.

Sensing the third attacker approaching, he grabbed the thug by his collar and pushed him towards the oncoming threat knocking them both down.

The two thugs quickly retreated behind their leader as both parties eyed each warily.

His spider sense alerted him of movement to his six o clock.

Analysing the men in front of him, Peter quickly devised a plan.

'well then, let's get serious shall we.'

Crouching into a running stance Peter took a deep breath and prepared to go on the offensive.

Marcus wasn't having the best of days. Scratching his beard he moved between his men to get a better look at the problem.

John and Kenny were incapacitated it seems, oh wait John's playing dead. That's good. John was their best fighter, even better than him. Ex navy or some shit. It would take a lot more than a lucky fluke to take him down.

And as for Kenny... Meh, he'll live.

Flicking off the safety of his gun, Marcus cleared his throat while John snuck up on him. He wasn't going to use the gun anyway, too much noise. Besides these streets were unclaimed, they weren't even supposed to be here.

Taking a step forward, Marcus brought his gun to bear.

The intruder stooped low and pressed his hand on the ground.

Then hemoved.

He couldn't remember much from then onwards. There was a distinct memory of being hit by something. Then he was staring at the sky.

John told him that they had to carry him and Kenny away. His gun was lost. The man liked it apparently and was unwilling to depart with it.

Man. He was getting too old for this shit.

It's really easy to forget that besides having superhuman reaction speeds in even his weskest depictions, spiderman is one of the fastest street level superhumans being able to outrun even cars.

Peter thrust his palm at the man's chest, striking his solar plexus and making him fall back. The gun cluttered to the ground.

When the two men turned back they found themselves looking at the business end of a gun with their boss on the ground gasping for air.

The thing about being a superhero was that once you get your powers, normal problems become easy to solve. Unless you are peter parker who has to go out of his way to help everyone at the cost of himself. The most significant change he had noticed in his life was just how much his confidence rose. It wasn't because of a life changing revelation or anything. You don't tend to be afraid of people anymore because they can't lift a truck and you can.

So when he was faced with a situation where he would have to go against gangsters who would get at least a five on his danger scale, he went towards it. It might have been a stupid decision in his old life, but he could afford to make stupid decisions here.

The man laying at his feet soon recovered from his blows and got up. He didn't seem as confident as before. Looking at the gun in Peter's hand, he raised his arms while backing off.

"Hey, you can keep that. Alright man. Just don't point it at us. We'll go."

The man could probably guess that he never held a gun before in his life. A shaky finger could end in a bloodbath.

Peter watched the men help each other up and get out. Hiding the gun in his hoodie, he moved towards the end of the alley where a small figure lay still.

Drake sat up gagging and sputtering. There was water everywhere. On his hair, on his face and up his nose.

His fingers felt rough pavement under him. Backing up against a wall he looked up in the dim light of an alley way. He didn't remember getting here. Wasn't he being chased by someone?

A tall figure stood near him with an empty water bottle. Blond haired with a little bit of stubble, the man would have cut a threatening figure with his wide shoulders and muscular arms.

He was looking at him as if he had seen something amusing.

Drake glanced behind him. There was no one there. He could make a run for it if he ignored the blaring pain.

"You okay kid?"

The stranger asked. He was a lot younger than he thought. His voice was kind and light, it instantly put him at ease.

"I am-cough cough- fine."

Rubbing his throat, he looked was he? Why was he on the ground?

Then he began to remember everything. Those guys had been following him all day.

"Do you know your parents phone number?"

The man asked interrupting his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to involve his parents in anything. He had run away after all. Still, he had to make a believable excuse to get out of this mess.

"I don't remember."

'yeah that will work. Of course it will.'

The man sighed before taking out his mobile.

"What's your name kid?"

The stranger asked as he typed into his phone. He couldn't give his real name, what if he knows him?

"Um... Bob."

His fingers stilled as he looked at him with a disbelieving expression.

"Your parents must be terrible people."

"They're not." Drake stated indignantly. Who the hell does he think he is.

Where are you from ?"

This guy was wasting his time. He needed to find shelter. Still, he wondered what happened to those men.

"What happened to me? I remember being surrounded by people."

Peter got up and spoke.

"I don't know anything about that. I just found you laying in the street. I was about to call the police, but then you started waking up."

Weird.

"Um, thanks I guess. I really have to go now."

Drake got up on shaky legs. His torso was bruised for sure. Leaning against the wall he took small steps out of the alley. Peter stood aside to give him some room. He needed to find someplace to rest for the night.

A hand gripped his shoulder making him stop and turn around. Peter looked at him with questioning eyes.

"Where are you going?"

He wished he could tell him. But there wasn't anything to say. He didn't know where he was going. He was running away. From his home. From his family. He had nowhere to go.

Bob looked terrible. Every step he took left him trembling, his breaths were wheezy and slow.

The kid wasn't going anywhere.

He took another shaky step. Maybe he slipped or tripped over something, because he was falling down the next moment.

Peter reached his hand out and pressed it against Bob's back. It stopped his fall.

"Yo Bob, you pass out?"

Bob didn't respond.

"Don't worry bobby ol buddy, I know just the place for you."

The next time Drake woke up he was in a bed, which was a massive improvement over pavement.

He was in a room he didn't recognize. There was another person sitting on a table near him.

Sitting up he felt the sun's rays fall on his face.

'it's daytime? Where am I?'

"Are you alright?"

The personon the table asked him. He looked older. Maybe fifteen or sixteen years old.

"Yeah. Uhm where am I ?"

The teenager straightened his collar before answering.

"St. Agne's orphanage. New York."

"Oh."

Drake paused for a moment to let that sink in.

"And who are you?"

The teen looked at him with clear blue eyes and a kind smile.

"Matthew Murdock."


	8. Coffee with Carnage

"This the place?"

Richard's werehouse looked a lot more worn down than he expected.

"Pretty sure it is."

"It's kinda small."

"I think its pretty impressive they managed to buy one at all."

Eddie was...different. Unlike his comic depictions he was a pretty normal guy. No mental trauma or anything.

"I suppose." Peter replied while examing the lock.

A saw should cut through it. The lock was already rusted. Where was the toolbox again?

"Can you get me the saw Eddie? I could cut through this in a couple of minutes."

"I got a better idea."

Eddie gripped a crowbar with both hands and looked at the door with a disturbing smile.

_ .Klang._

The rusted doors bent inwards with each strike. Eddie had some serious muscles.

The lock finally broke. The hinge was broken too. He should add that to the repairs list.

"That should do it."

Dropping the crowbar, Eddie braced himself against the sliding door before pushing it open.

Peter and Eddie looked at each other and back at the warehouse. Nodding at each other, both of them took a step inside.

A cloud of dust enveloped them as a breeze went by. Peter went into a coughing fit.

"Christ dude, this place is a mess."

"Its not that bad. It just needs a little cleaning up."

Ever the optimist, aren't you?

A metallic snap resounded throughout the warehouse.

He looked up to see an old neon sign dangling on one chain.

_Snap._

The chain broke apart. Eddie was right below impact zone. Peter hopped over to eddie and tackled him with his shoulder throwing him against the floor.

Surprised at the sudden impact Eddie grabbed Peter's arm as he went down.

They fumbled for a few seconds to get a grip as the dust got in everywhere. Getting off the tall blonde, peter dusted his shirt and pulled Eddie back on his feet.

"Cleaning up might take a while."

"you don't say, Eddie."

Eddie took his keys from the floor while staring at Peter.

"You work out man?"

Not many people question someone who saved them from potential injuries but Eddie was a journalist or at least trying to be one.

"Yeah, a lot actually. Drives aunt May crazy with how much I eat. What about you?"

He asked while gesturing at Eddie. He was pretty ripped, but tackling Eddie was a bit harder than he expected.

Smirking at him, Eddie flexed his biceps.

"I was born this way young padawan. A natural ladies man."

Sure he was. Peter would have suspected steriods if he didn't know the guy as well as he did. Despite his big size and even bigger personality, Eddie was too much of a goodie two shoes for any of that.

Looking around the werehouse he walked towards a wall.

"At least the power should be working."

Peter looked around in the dark for a switch while Eddie went to pick up the sign.

"Didn't they have a generator Eddie?"

"It should be in the back, behind a big container."

It took them a week to bring the warehouse back in working condition. Fortunately Eddie had a good vaccum cleaner. The generator was still working, so they had a few days to hook the warehouse to the city grid.

They did a thorough search of the warehouse, but came up short on any valuables. All that remained were copies of the documents that richard kept in his basement.

But eddie was resourceful. The sign that almost fell on him was the name of a firm. Apparently richard forgot to mention that he and brock's father had incorporated their partnership. Eddie was able to track down a public case the company was fighting against by checking for the name.

Peter wasn't looking for a legal fight, he was curious about what happened to the symbiote. Eddie was searching for closure however. Getting his help was easier than expected. He wanted to understand his fathers legacy or as he put it,

"Of course I want to see the biological supersuit an evil company took from my dad before he died."

That aside, things were going alright. He had a couple of plans for dealing with Kassidy. With access to all the tools in the werehouse, he could cook up some nasty stuff. He would have to repair all of the equipments first, half of them were rusted on the outside and falling apart on the inside.

He'll have time for that later, for now, he should find a way to access those case files. He wasn't an investigator by any stretch of means but maybe he would notice something the cops didn't.

_'But how do I get them? Police records aren't something I can just hack. I don't know if they even digitalize those files. If only I knew someone who...__hmm. That might work.'_

* * *

_Knock__. ._

May sighed and turned down the volume. Getting up she strecthed her arms before treading towards the door.

Just what she needed, an unwanted interruption.

Grasping the knob, she pulled the door open.

A smiling young man in a well tailored suit stood in front of her doorway.

He looked...eerie. From his neatly combed hair to his symmetrical face, nothing was out of place. He was calm, steady, controlled. Execpt for his eyes.

They were filled with a frightening enthusiasm that demanded her attention.

"May Parker, I assume?"

Smooth voice too. He must be a real hit with the ladies.

"Yes." She replied automatically.

"Ah, I heard about your husband. Truly a tragedy."

She doubted it. Not many strangers start conversations with that.

"The name's Kevin by the way."

Lovely. Maybe he is an insurance agent. That would explain the lack of sensitivity.

"Look sweetie, I have a lot on my head right now. If you want new clients then try the house next doors."

An expression of disbelief took over his features for a brief moment.

May gently began to close the door. Hopefully he'll get the message.

"I suppose I do look the part." He muttered while straightening his suit.

Then a shoe stuck in the doorway.

"Ah May."

The man called out in an amused voice. Then it turned sinister.

"I didn't say you could leave now, did I?"

* * *

"Aunt May?"

'_Maybe she's in her room.'_

He headed towards it.

"Aunt May?"

No answer. Was she dressing or something?

"Hey are you-"

A soft _KLICK _filtered through the door.

_'Was that a gun?'_

Peter sprung away as a bullet pierced through the door and the wall behind him.

Huh, he was correct after-

A large figure smashed through the door interrupting his musings. He looked around for a moment before he noticed peter and started to fire at him.

Peter dodged every shot though. Not that it was particularly hard, every bullet was aimed at his torso. After a few seconds he found cover behind a wall.

The gun was a semi automatic. Maybe he could-

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by his spider sense making him duck. He avoided three bullets which preforated the dry wall where he had been a second ago.

Enough of this. As soon as he heard the gun click empty peter rushed out from his cover and charged.

While running he quickly touched a picture frame on the wall and took it off using his sticky fingers.

The man saw him coming and stopped for a second.

It was all peter needed as he threw the frame like a frisbee towards the man's head. To his surprise he shrugged it off and looked no worse for wear.

He was clearly dealing with someone enhanced or someone with a lot of pain tolerance. Not a lot of people came to his head at the moment. Kassidy was taller and certainly not a brunnette.

The assailant whipped his gun towards peter who made to catch it. Surprisingly the mans arm punched through his guard with immense strength forcing him back.

That was a first. His opponent didn't give him any rest however and tackled him with a grunt. Peter let himself be caught but stood his ground by sticking his feet to the floor.

"I'll be taking that."

He grabbed the gun from the mans hand and crushed it within his grasp.

His opponent did not like that and threw an uppercut which he leaned away from.

"Stay still, won't ya?" It was the first time he had spoken, excluding the grunts, and he sounded frustrated. Didn't this guy just watch a gun get crushed in front of him? How was he not freaked out?

The intruder began swinging left and right to try and hit him. But peter was too nimble and had better reaction times. Once they entered the kitchen peter was rapidly pushed into corner as he tried to avoid the knife slashes.

Slashing in a knife fight is generally not a good idea when your opponent has better reflexes than you. But he wasn't complaining.

Where did he get the knife from though? From _his_ bloody kitchen apparently. What kind of self respecting assassin forgets to bring a knife? He paid twenty dollars for that thing. The idiot was probably going to break it.

Use your own knife you stupid piece of shit.

The man paused for a moment. Then he dropped the knife. Wait what?

Then he reached into his pockets and pulled out a bigger one.

"Oh man, are you kidding me?"

This time his opponent tried to stab him up close. But peter was getting tired of fooling around. He quickly crouched and leaped over him. Turning before his opponent could react, peter grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him against a wall.

The jarring impact dazed the assailant and he dropped the knife. But peter didn't stop there.

He slapped his chin harshly further confusing his opponent before grabbing him by the collar and throwing him across the floor.

The body hit the ground with a sickening fleshy thud.

He's not dead, right?

Peter took a frying pan and prodded the man's face. No reaction. Better tie this guy up anyway.

Villians have a nasty habit of disappearing when you look away.

Dragging the man by his ankles, Peter dropped him in the back. Now if he could get a cup of coffee to calm his nerves...

Peter quickly put some water on the stove and dropped in some instant coffee powder. He then left the kitchen to fetch some duct tape from his basement. Before leaving however he hit the guy once more on the head just to be sure.

Where did he leave the damn thing? He couldn't find anything in this house. Where's some duct tape when you need- ooh his gauntlet modules. He was wondering where he had kept them.

Equipping the modules onto his web gauntlets, peter facepalmed when he realised that he forgot to use them during the fight.

Whatever, he'll do it next time. Back to the duct tape. ooh the desert eagle from the alley fight. Nice. He thought he lost it. He searched for a few more minutes before he found the duct tape.

Reaching the kitchen, he quickly switched off the stove when his spider sense went off.

The assailant had woken up.

"Well this is a surprise." The man said as he stood up. He was strangely confident even after being beaten up by a teenager.

"Who are you?" Peter asked.

"I suppose an introduction is necessary, sorry about the mess by the way."

"S'all right. What's your name?"

Peter's spider sense went off even stronger.

"Cleetus Kassidy. That's my birth name."

What?

He had seen Cleetus with his own two eyes. This man was definitely not carnage.

The man smiled at his confusion. Then he...shifted. It was confusing to watch. It was as if his flesh liquified and turned inside out into tendrils before turning solid again. He was taller now, with ginger hair and familiar crazy eyes.

"Impressive right?" His voice was deeper and more menacing.

A metamorph? He didn't recall that ability. Maybe it's mystique.

His body shifted once more. Flesh turned into liquid tendrils that twitched every way before turning blood red and covering his entire body. The last part to be covered was his face where two milky white eyes and a mouth with too many teeth appeared.

"I am destruction. I am blood. I am chaos personified. I AM CARN-

"A naked blue woman with a fetish for magnets?"

Carnage blinked.

"What?"

"Have some coffee."

Peter took the tumbler full of boiling coffee and threw it at him.


	9. chapter 9

_SPLASH_.

A raspy screech erupted from his throat as Cleetus flinched away. Red tendrils whirled in agony across his torso before retreating into his body.

It would be the first of a long and painful night. The symbiote inside Cleetus screamed in rage at the agony inflicted on it.

'_The prey thinks he can win. How arrogant. He will enjoy killing this one.'_

Recovering from the scalding heat Cleetus morphed his hand into a sharp red lance which streaked towards his prey in a blur.

The spear inched ever so close until it was at arms length from Peter.

It would pierce through his left shoulder, tearing a bloody hole as it went through. If he had a bit more time, he could have dodged. But it was too late for that. He had frozen.

Time slowed down. Peter felt his knees tremble. His spider sense was doing everything it could to warn him, but fear lashed out in his head cursing his stupidity.

With all the preparations Peter had done, one would imagine that he was ready to smack the fuck out of Cleetus if he ever met him. But if he were being totally honest, Peter had never expected carnage to be real. All the evidence pointed to him being a normal human. Although he had plans for dealing with the symbiote, he never thought he would fight him so soon. It wouldn't be innacurate to say that he was almost shitting his pants in terror.

Two seconds were all he had to catch the spear's tip, absorbing a heavy thrust that had him sliding backwards and his feet scraping troughs on the floor until he felt his back hit a wall.

The tip pricked his skin uncomfortably as his trembling arms put all their strength into keeping it as far away as possible.

"What's the matter Kid? Where's all that bravodo, now? Come on, don't make this boring for me."

Cleetus leaned into his arm and applied more force than Peter's hands could withstand. The lance pierce through his flesh until it struck bone and could go no further. Peter's clavicle hurt like a bitch. The constant pressure exerted by the spear certainly didn't help.

Cleetus was not taking this seriously at all. Even now he didn't look like he was putting in any effort to keep him down. It scared and pissed him off at the same time.

"Urgh..gh...Fuck...you..." He spat out in pain and anger.

His opponent seemed amused.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Cleetus smirked and withdrew his arm. The boy grunted in pain as he leaned against the wall brimming with pain.

It had been quite a while since Cleetus had felt pain. He was usually the one dishing it out so it came as a surprise. From the moment he became. Carnage, he knew he was invincible. Strength, speed, agility, he had all of them in spades. He could stop bullets with his tendrils. He could move faster than a Ferrari and punch through _concrete_ for fucks sake. But then this scrawny runt comes out of nowhere and _burns _him. With coffee of all things. His cellmates would laugh their asses off if they ever heard of it.

Peter ran towards the next room clutching his shoulder in pain. The wound wasn't deep enough to hamper his moments but it still hurt a lot. A little pain wasn't too bad. It stopped him from freezing. That was way too close for comfort. His enemy was as strong as him if not stronger.

Cleetus chose that moment to enter the room and ran towards Peter while changing his hands into spiky clubs. Close quarters combat suddenly seemed a like a terrible idea.

The clubs blitzed him from the side and flung him across the room head over heels into a wall. A flicker in his vision was all the warning he had to raise his arms to minimize damage.

A dazed Peter stuck himself against the wall as he tried to gain control of his senses. The table below blurred into view and sweat poured down his neck. Everything felt muted. It was as if he was powerless again.

He didn't get to dwell on it much further as heard footsteps approaching. Raw fear swept through his being as Cleetus came through the door.

Nothing in the world scared him more than the terrifying figure slowly approaching him. He had to get away from here.

Peter focused on hands and feet. He reached within himself to find that energy again. It came to him quickly. For a brief moment he allowed himself to calm down. Tensing his muscles Peter oriented himself towards Cleetus and jumped. At the very last moment he released the energy from his limbs causing a repelling force that increased his momentum manyfolds over.

The symbiote host moved away to avoid what he assumed was an attack, only for Peter to twist himself to completely bypass him at highway speeds.

He soared towards the door with his hands outstrectched. He was close. Just a few more seconds and he would be free.

Cleetus however was quick on the uptake and extended his arm to snag Peter's legs. The teenager's momentum made him stumble before he held on to a doorway and pulled back.

Peter reached the door and held onto the doorknob with all his might. But the it couldn't handle the strain of two superhumans and broke apart.

Cleetus dragged Peter towards him while Peter's fingers splintered the floor underneath him.

The older man pounced towards his victim and started landing blow after blow at his head. Each strike harder and slower than the last.

Every strike felt like a wrecking ball bashing against his skull. Remembering an old piece of advice he quickly put his hands up to cover his head. The next punch was deflected by both his arms.

Cleetus put his left hand on the floor beside Peter's head and raised his right arm to punch with all his might.

Time began to slow down. Peter could see the fist heading towards him but he couldn't move fast enough to dodge it. His spider sense kicked in and instinct guided him. Peter's right hand moved to catch the punch, but it was too slow and instead hit the incoming fist to alter its trajectory. It grazed his left hand and struck the ground.

In a sudden burst of rage Peter's left hand moved on his own and punched the man's face hard enough to loosen his grip. There was less weight on him now.

The redhead's anger twisted his face as he bought down his fist with the force of a hammer. Peter took the full burnt of the blow with crossed arms. But Cleetus wasn't satisfied. He raised his arm once more to deliver another crushing blow.

But he raised his torso in doing so, allowing Peter greater freedom to move. Peter had a clear shot at his torso, but it could backfire if Cleetus tanks through it. Screw it. Peter moved his upper body to the right and leaned out of the blow which broke through the wood.

'_Gotcha bitch.'_

Peter rolled back and used the momentum to strike with his left elbow and right fist. The impacts jarred Cleetus enough to allow him to crawl away and back up.

Getting off the ground the two combatants sized each other up. Peter was no longer afraid of violence but he remained wary while Cleetus seemed to seethe in rage. At an unseen signal both of them exploded into action.

Dark tendrils propelled angry clubs which grazed Peter's hair as he ducked beneath them. A couple more blows followed but they were slow and telegraghed compared to when they first crossed arms. His blows contained none of the finesse from before.

Crouching down Peter swept his leg underneath his opponent who dodged by stepping back.

His instincts made him leap away from the ground but his assailant's arm elongated and gripped his left arm's sleeve.

Peter's eyes widened as an inky red mass spread over his arm before squeezing into a powerful grip.

_'Well fuck.'_

Cleetus began pulling him while he ineffectively kicked at his stomach. His mobility was his greatest advantage against Cleetus. He could not afford to loose it.

The world blurred for a moment as Cleetus threw him over his shoulder. The wooden floors soon came into his vision before a crashing sound was heard and Peter's head exploded in pain.

The redhead lifted Peter's left arm and struck at his face. Peter's spider sense alerted him of an incoming fist. Raising his right arm he deflected a blow to his head. A stronger punch smacked his own arm against his face. The next one slipped through his guard and hit his chin. Another punch scored a direct strike which made him bite his toungue and spit blood.

Cleetus stopped attacking as his prey's head lolled around dribbling blood from his mouth.

'_Good. Now to finish of-_'

_SMACK. _The sound echoed through the room as an incredulous murderer stared at the man who slapped him. Cleetus's eyes turned murderous before he morphed his hand into a blade and plunged it down. Instead of a pained gasp he only heard the sound of cloth tearing away.

Peter had moved as soon as he slapped Cleetus. The sheer shock of it had loosened his enemy's grip enough to let him slide out of his old t shirt. It wasn't easy considering it was a very tight fit but he was a man of many talents.

He didn't get any rest though. The red demon was upon him in seconds screaming in rage. Pale hands morphed into unholy tendrils that slashed at him with unseen savagery. The wooden walls were peppered with gouges and cuts with entire sections being torn apart.

He was unlike any other he had opponent he fought, a relentless onslaught of pure offense that he could barely process. He was mostly relying on his spider sense to dodge. It was like an autopilot mode for his body, he could make adnustments whenever he wanted though.

Ducking a horizontal slash he rolled towards a rug which almost slipped him.

"I must say..."

The man's voice managed to sound civilized and blood curling at the same time.

"You are really good at this. Are you a mutant perhaps? Your combat abilities are unbelievable."

He gazed at the muderer wearily. Cleetus was almost close to the truth. What if he starts going after mutants because of him? The last thing he needed was a grudge from the X men because Cleetus thought they would make for better fights. Then another thought invaded his mind. If he ever went out as spiderman, then Cleetus will spill the beans about him. Damn, another problem he cannot solve.

As his shoes brushed againt the red rug, a plan took form in his head. Considering the pros and cons Peter took a slow breath before enacting it.

"How did you know that?"

The man almost seemed relieved when he said that.

"No one could stand against me. I knew there was something special about you."

Peter watched as Cleetus put a foot on the rug. _Perfect._

Taking a step forward he stepped on the soft rug.. Then he stuck it to his shoe and yanked his leg back. Cleetus lost his footing and stumbled for a moment before redish black tendrils erupted from his side balancing him. But that was enough.

Charging forwards Peter shot compressed balls of webbing all over his opponent's torso. Cleetus brought both hands to his chest to try and tear them off, but Peter wasn't done yet. He shot another string of web at his hands sticking it to his torso.

Cleetus roared at him in rage and charged. Only to trip as Peter shot webs at his feet.

Taking advantage of his opponents incapacitated form he began covering him in a veritable cocoon of webs.

"You won't stop me wi-"

Another web to his face silenced him and Peter stood back to admire his work.

Seemingly satisfied Peter took out the used catridge from his webshooter. He detached a rectangular piece of metal from his gauntlet which he inserted it into a slot on his left shooter before attaching another similar red module on his right.

Flicking his left wirst he activated his shooters, but intead of the usual formula a fine spray of liquid doused the cocoon. A sweet pugnant smell permeated the room and the cocoon's struggle intensified.

Taking a step back, Peter cleared out all the objects in the room and stood away from the cocoon. The LED on the red module blinked a deceptive soft green as he aimed his wirst towards the centre of the room.

A bright orange stream of fire erupted from his hand and lit the cocoon on fire.

Peter let out a sigh of relief as the flames burned brighter and higher. The flames wouldn't kill Cleetus. He was sure about that, but it would severly restrict the mobility of the symbiote. It was like pouring salt on a snail. Thats why extreme temperatures worked against them.

The webbing dissolved slowly allowing the inhabitant inside it to frantically move around but it was of no use. Tentacles emerged all over his body trying to break through but Peter webbed them as quick as they came and sprayed more gasoline on them. Soon the muderer and the symbiote were nothing more than a quivering pitiful mess.

'_Ah crap the floor's on fire. I should probably open the windows.'_

The burning floor was quickly put to rest as Peter watched the struggling cocoon until it stopped moving.

Fifteen minutes passed as the smoke cleared from the room.

As he moved towards the body his spider sense let out a faint warning telling him to be carefull.

Peter looked at the kitchen where the spilled coffee covered the carpet. He would have to get that cleaned. Shooting a web at the knife on the ground, he pulled it to his hands.

"You...kil.."

A raspy voice emanated from the husk below him. Cleetus was burned badly. Looking at him made him want to throw up, but some part of him, probably a remnant of the real Peter, couldn't look away.

A blob of red and black erupted from his mouth towards Peter who nonchalantly sprayed it with fire. The symbiote was small, about the size of his palm and rapidly dying. He quickly switched out his modules and shot a web at it put out the fire.

"No." Cleetus whispered. Peter nudged the remaining mass of symbiote with his foot. It didn't so much as move before it began to disintegrate, leaving behind a moving pile of ash before a white coloured strand appeared. It was small, no bigger than his little finger, yet it wiggled around with unusual vitality.

A phone rang at that moment. Looking at the caller ID, it showed that Aunt May was calling.

"Hello, is this Peter?"

An unfamiliar male voice spoke.

"Yes."

"Good.Good. I was worried I got the wrong number. Anyways, your aunt and I were discussing a little transaction you see and we have run into some complications."

He didn't like where this was going.

"What kind of complications?"

The sound of a loaded gun was heard.

"I am sure you can figure that out."

Peter took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He needed to find out who he was dealing with here.

"Who am I speaking to again?"

"We can discuss that over a cup of tea. What do you say Peter?"

Peter looked at the spilled coffee and the human barbecue before replying.


	10. Chapter 10

I am not particularly good at being angry. It wasn't because I was a really nice person or anything. I just looked and felt stupid whenever I acted on my anger. So I did what all teenagers do. Brood and plan elaborate scenarios of getting back at my tormentors while I stewed over my inability to do anything. But those instances were few and rare.

Cleetus was tied to a basement pillar with a gag in his mouth. He couldn't just throw him into a river as much as he felt he should have.

The footage from the security system showed an armed man escorting may into his car before driving off. Some of the cameras were destroyed in his fight with carnage but the one on the front door was thankfully intact and so was the microphone, which recorded the conversation. The camera by the mailbox captured the liscense plate of the car may left in. It's a good thing the home security system was setup early on. It made searching for those broken laptops well worth the effort.

My wounds throbbed in protest as I head upstairs and the smell of blood lingered around me as I undressed. It was...surreal I should say, to see a wound on my own body. The bright red liquid contrasted heavily against my pale skin as it slowly clotted. There was something fascinating about seeing your blood trying to escape your body. Morbidity aside, I could now confirm that I had a low teir regeneration factor. Any regular person would have bled out if they took a spear to the chest.

The enhanced healing was effective but not something I was too happy about. My pain receptors were working overtime to let me know just how much they appreciated my lack of paranoia.Telomere degradation was a very real phenomenon and I don't want to overwork my healing factor if it meant that I aged faster.

Cleaning my wounds took a good half an hour where I hissed and whimpered in pain whenever I got too close to the wound. I would have considered stitching them up but I was sure my healing factor could handle it.

The alarm clock ticked as the time went by. I remained motionless on the floor as the pain began to slowly dull.

Fighting is too troublesome, you know? Fighting strong opponents is even more troublesome. If I have to spent an entire night laying in pain after every fight then I am not doing it right. How the hell do those heroes do it? To go out everyday knowing that another human is willing to hurt you. It's not for me, that's for sure.

There was something jarring about being in a life or death fight that freezes you up. It takes a moment to sink in that someone is willing to kill you for their own gain, and that was a crushing feeling. Am I the only person who ended up here? God I would love to have someone to talk to.

Sighing again I got up and went about securing the symbiote offspring. I wasn't ready to bond with it just yet. The only completed prototype was destroyed in a plane accident supposedly and the remaining prototype had major defects. I needed to identify which version I had and figure out a way to find and treat any complications.

But he could do all of that later. His body was still adapting to the changes made in the last month. Growth spurts often include temporary weakening of the bones. Considering the rapid evolution his body was put through in the last month, it was a miracle he came out of that fight with non lethal injuries.

Heading into the basement he quickly dressed himself in disposable black overalls. The same ones he used when he went out web slinging for the first time. They were a bit dusty but they'll have to do, he would be ridding his hands of the murderer soon enough.

There was a chance that Kassidy might be working for this Kevin fellow, but he wouldn't bet on it. It's not like he can torture the information out of him. Neither did he want to do it.

Preparing my chemistry set, I searched through a cabinet until I found the drugs I needed. I wasn't really sure what all had, but the drug dealer at school made a killing the day he met me.

But his impromptu drug cooking session was interrupted by a knock on his front door. Stashing away his drug set, he quickly checked the security feed.

A frown materialised on his face as he recognised the man in front of his house. It was one of those thugs he beat up the other day.

"I would appreciate it if you let me in mr.parker." Fuck, how did he know about the security system? I pressed the intercom.

"And I should because?"

The man took out a purse and flashed it directly at my not so well hidden camera.

"You and your guardian are wanted for questioning by law enforcement. Please corporate to avoid any issues."

My eyes bulged as the name on the badge came into focus. I haphazardly began cleaning up the basement and by that I mean that I threw everything into an old trunk of Richard Parker. Quickly taping a piece of duct tape on Cletus, I kicked him into a corner and went up to answer the order.

Anonymity was something that was hard to keep in the marvel universe if you had some sort of power. The moment I helped that kid, I had known it would bite me back in the ass. But for shield to get involved? I really screwed myself, didn't I ?

Steeling myself, I opened the door to meet the man I beat up a few days ago. Now that I really looked at him, any doubts I had about his identity vanished. Might as well as play the clueless teenager and pray to god that I don't get dragged into their mess.

"How can I help you mr.Rumlow?"

...


	11. Author's note

**YO author here. Stuck in a hole of my own making basically. I am kinda stumped on where I should take this story now that I have come this far.**

**I am just not getting any ideas on how to progress from here. Just a vague set of scenes that I don't see mashing together very well.**

This** is a cry for help basically. Tell me your ideas, any suggestions or directions you want this story to head in. Maybe it will get my creative juices flowing.****Ah it's one o'clock already. gotta sleep. Peace.**


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